


Truly One of Us

by DeepLittleSOB



Series: Lizzy-verse [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, Demonic Possession, Drinking, F/M, Kidnapping, Marijuana, Protective Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sex, Snowed In, Soulmates, Vacation, Vengeance Demon(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:58:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 66,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3562172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepLittleSOB/pseuds/DeepLittleSOB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been months and Dean's shocked.  He's in a relationship.  A real one.  And he's not terrified.</p><p>Lizzy is everything he could possibly want and Dean's proven to be all Lizzy's dreamed of... but why does one demonic force want so badly to force them apart?  And why does it feel the need to make Dean do the one thing he hates to do more than anything else... TALK!?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New England in the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fifth story in my series. This is a true analysis of Dean Winchester's head and heart... in a very Supernatural way. I do hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own or have the rights to anything of the Supernatural universe. I'm just playing in their sandbox.

* * *

"So how you holding up since I last talked to you?" Lizzy asks, hoping he's doing fine enough. It's been of couple days since they've last talked and she's beginning to worry about him even more than usual. Dean and Sam's past few weeks have been nonstop and grueling. Burning a man turned Rugaru alive and losing an old hunter friend in the process, almost getting fried by a shapeshifter that thought he was Count Dracula, then Dean getting struck by a severe case of ghost sickness that almost took him down for good... sounds fucking insane, but only her boys could find that as reality. And she doesn't even know what they've been up to for the past few days.

"Better now," Dean comments while driving, just happy to hear her voice. Jesus Christ, what an exhausting couple of weeks. "Halloween can suck my dick, though."

"Worst fucking holiday ever," Sam mumbles while writing in their Dad's journal in the Impala's passenger seat.

"What? I thought you'd love Halloween," Lizzy says with surprise. "Free candy, slutty costumes, people getting bombed; what's not to love?"

"Alright, then just  _this_  Halloween can suck my dick… two times," he explains without delving any further. He's too tired to get into the whole thing right at the moment, but he chooses not to hold back on sharing one part of his shitty holiday. She'd appreciate it too much and he's been dying to tell her. "At least I got to gank some zombies Resident Evil style. That was pretty fucking awesome."

"Shut up!" Lizzy excitedly shouts as Dean has to pull the phone away from his ear with her volume. She completely shares his love for the iconic movie monster and hearing this is mind blowing to her.

"You shut up," he laughs quietly in return, her enthusiasm and support already starting to wash away the horrid aftertaste of his recent days.

"That's insane!" she giddily yells. "Completely and totally insane! How the fuck did that happen?"

"Ah. Long story," he ends the conversation before it gets very far. It's just too damn much right now and Lizzy gets the message loud and clear. She doesn't delve into the how any more, but she still needs details.

"Oh man, are we talking Night of the Living Dead kinda zombies or 28 Days Later zombies?"

"Romero style all the way," he answers her.

"God damn it! So classic! Can't believe I missed that!" Lizzy comments with sadness over missing out. "I'm so jealous right now it's fucking killing me."

"Don't be," Dean replies in a tired tone. "That was by far the only highlight of my day, or days… maybe weeks." It really was the only bright spot, as the breaking of yet another seal really punctuated the shittiness of his past month.

"Aw, not as pumped as you should be about being the only person on Earth to ever slay the living dead there, Hot Shot… you must be spent," she says troubled. "You know, after muddling through the past few weeks, you should really take that well-deserved shore leave we were talking about the other day. You should try New England. I hear it's beautiful in the fall." She can only hope they have no new hunts lined up and he'll take the bait. He could use a break and she could definitely use some time with him.

"Actually, that's my plan," Dean tells her before glancing over at his brother in the passenger seat. "Sam thought it'd be a good idea and I couldn't agree more."

Sam just looks back with a slight, sheepish nod, knowing Dean really did need to chill out and relax for a few. His emotions had been on overdrive through the whole ghost sickness and recuperation time would be good for him since he hasn't taken a moment to rest since. Sam's more than happy to give his brother some time off and hopefully some time away from being stuck in the car together. Things haven't been good between them as of late, what with the whole psychic exorcism stuff and him hanging around Ruby again.

"So when do you two head out this way?" Lizzy wonders.

"I'm gonna make a pit stop at Bobby's first," Dean begins explaining. "I'll drop the rugrat off there before hitting the road. He and Bobby are gonna go do some research and be nerds together or something," Dean adds while spying the usual bitch face Sam makes while looking out the windshield.

"Research on what exactly?"

"Oh, you know, angels and why they're such dick-bags, stuff like that probably. Maybe try and figure out all the shit Castiel is clearly not telling us."

"Would be nice to know what the fuck is going on," Lizzy concurs. Castiel was very cryptic when explaining everything to them. And the whole idea that she herself clearly had a role in everything going on scared her shitless. She was used to Sam and Dean being intertwined with fucked up stuff constantly, but never her. "Have them keep me updated with what they find, since we both seem to be pretty hugely involved in… uh… heaven's bullshit, I guess you could say." Still felt awkward and highly surreal to say aloud.

"Will do," Dean tells her, understanding how beyond frightened by everything she still was. Lizzy always did her best to be strong and act tough for his sake, but she was terrified deep down and he knew it. As much as she could read him like a book, he could quite easily do the same with her.

"So wait…" Lizzy changes the subject when something dawns on her. "I'm gonna have you all to myself for more than one day straight?"

"Yes ma'am," Dean answers happily. Lizzy can hear him grinning from the other end of the call.

"Oh my God," she smiles out with the very pleasant surprise.

"Yup," Dean smiles while his stomach jumps with excitement. "I'm coming all by my lonesome this time. Just you and me, baby." As much as he'd never admit it, Dean's very happy to get away from his brother for a little while. With all the secrets and the mistrust building between them and with having just watched Sam single-mindedly take down an ancient demon of epic proportions, he needs some time far away from him. Maybe Lizzy can help him sort through the whole fucked up thing, though he's never told her about what's going on with Sam. He's afraid to. It'll change how she looks at him, Dean knows that for sure, and he doesn't at all want that to happen, even with how angry he is at his brother. They all need her, especially Sam right now.

Sam just gives a small smile, doing his best to act normal and appear like everything is fine. It's the only move he has left on the board so he has to go with it. He's just desperate to get back what they used to have because whatever they have now is a disaster.

"Holy shit," Lizzy delights. "We've never had time to ourselves like this before! I'm not even sure I know what to do about this."

"Oh, I do," Dean says slyly. "I know exactly what to do." Sam scrunches his face as he knows what Dean is alluding to, earning an annoyed look in return.

"Mm, I'm sure you do, Hot Shot," Lizzy growls into the phone before shouting out, "Ah, this is so fucking awesome! I'm so excited!" They've never been alone like that, not once. Lizzy is more than ready for the chance to be an actual, real couple. The thought even sounds weird to her as it pops into her mind.

"I heard that," Sam mutters down to the journal in his lap after hearing Lizzy's enthusiastic reaction to his absence from across the car.

"What'd he say?" Lizzy asks, having heard Sam's voice but not what he said.

"He said he heard you being excited about me dumping his ass for a few days," Dean explains.

"Aww, no," Lizzy coos, worrying that she hurt Sam's feelings. "I made Sam sad! Can you give him the phone for a second?"

"Sure." Dean hands Sam the phone with an eye roll. Of course Lizzy would actually be worried that Sam would be offended by her comments. Sometimes she cares a little  _too_  much in Dean's opinion.

"Relax, alright? I was just kidding," Sam says when he holds the phone up to his ear, looking at the passing scenery.

"Suuuure you were," she says sarcastically. "You're actually really torn up about missing the chance to hang out with me. I know that you are, so don't deny it."

"Super depressed," Sam flatly responds, letting her know he's joking. "Look, I'll see you another time. It's totally fine."

"Seriously though, you know I love getting to see you," she reassures. "And I miss you, Sam-I-Am."

"Miss you too," he tells her honestly. She's the only one left who doesn't view him as a freak so it was always excellent to be around her. It made him still feel completely human. "But this time I think you two need some time to yourselves."

"Well, when you're right you're right. And I appreciate the gesture. Thank you." Lizzy loves that Sam is being so considerate.

"And in all honesty, I'm happy not to go this time. I get to avoid all the… ah… interesting noises I hear when trying to sleep each night at your apartment," Sam jokes before Dean lands a balled fist into his shoulder. "Ow!"

"You deserved it," Lizzy informs Sam, knowing Dean just slugged him one. "Sorry for all that by the way. We don't really get much time together, kinda have to take advantage when we can."

"Oh, I understand completely," Sam says. "For future reference though, never have kids. You'd scar them for life with your volume."

"Look at Sammy getting all ballsy with his words!" Lizzy exclaims as she isn't used to Sam being so forward with her. "You see kiddo, when mommies and daddies love each other very much they want to express that love…"

"Shut up," Sam grins out, his first smile in a very long time. "Just remember what I'm telling you the next time I come out there, ok?"

"What's the matter? You don't like hearing me have some fun? Does it make you uncomfortable?" Lizzy patronizes, pushing him and knowing just how embarrassed she's making him feel. She thinks her lack of shame is coming in quite handy in the moment. "Mm. Oh, yeah. Sam…"

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam asks, suddenly serious as he hears Lizzy begin moaning over the phone.

"Oh, God. Yes. Uh, Sammy. Mm."

"Gross," Sam comments with pure disgust while practically throwing the phone back to Dean. Lizzy had just completely succeeded in making him more uncomfortable than he's ever been before. Dean laughs hardily with the way Sam reacts.

"What did you just do to him?" Dean asks once the phone is back to his ear, dying to know what she did to make Sam so weirded out.

"Nothing," she feigns innocence.

"Bullshit," Dean calls her bluff as he sees Sam shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"You'll just have to ask him later," Lizzy says with a giggle, knowing she'll miss one hell of a funny and awkward conversation between the two. "So when will I get to see you?"

"Well, we're gonna get to Bobby's tonight. Then I'll try and drive however far I can before crashing. I'll catch a few hours and hopefully I'll be there by tomorrow night."

"Sounds good, but please don't push it with the sleep deprivation, ok?" Lizzy warns. "You're no good to me wrapped around a telephone pole."

"Ok, I will, but you know what's good to me wrapped around  _my_  pole?" Dean smiles out, not being able to let the joke pass by. Sam grimaces again at the horrible line and Dean silently mouths 'bitch' to him.

"I have an idea," Lizzy smirks. "I have a  _few_ ideas, actually. Just get here so I can make them happen."

"You're fucking awesome," Dean tells her, loving how her mind is always in tune with his own. "See you soon?"

"Hell yeah I will," Lizzy exclaims. "I can't fucking wait to see you!"

"Me neither," Dean says with a smile and ends the call, tossing his phone onto the bench seat next to him. "Alright, what happened?"

"Nothing," Sam mutters while looking out the window, not wanting to say out loud what it was.

"C'mon dude, what'd she do?" Dean asks while looking over to his brother and seeing the awkward body language he is displaying. "Whatever it was you should calm down. She was just fucking with you."

"Exactly," Sam comments dryly.

"Huh?"

"She was… making… noises," Sam stutters out, feeling highly embarrassed again.

"Noises?"

"Um, yeah," he pauses, unsure of how to word his answer. "Happy ones."

"Oh, so sexy noises?" Dean raises his eyebrows with his question, grinning widely.

"Yeah."

"Mm, my favorite," Dean smirks while thinking about the way she sounds when they are in the midst of doing what they do best. Sam shifts uncomfortably once again and Dean's eyes bug out of his skull with the realization of what Lizzy actually did to Sam. "Dude, did you just get wood off my girl?"

"What! No!" Sam denies, his face growing crimson with the question.

"Seriously!" Dean loudly questions with Sam's unintentional confirmation of his suspicions. "That's like your sister, man! Wow, you really, truly need to get laid. And soon."

"Shut up," Sam says while looking back out the window, wishing there was a hole for him to crawl into. And she wasn't his sister… not  _really._

"C'mon! You know you do!"

"Dean!" Sam warns.

"Hey, you have to admit that it's been a while. You need to get some," Dean tells him before muttering, "God knows I do."

"How long 'til Bobby's" Sam asks, ready to be out of the car already.

"Relax," Dean laughs as he reaches to turn up the Motorhead tape he had in. "Couple more hours before you get rid of me."

* * *

"Alright, get your shit," Dean says, roughly pushing his brother by the shoulder while he's asleep in the passenger seat. Sam passed out about an hour before and now that they were pulling into Bobby's he needed to wake up fast. Dean was itching to start his trip to Massachusetts and wanted Sam out as soon as possible.

"Hmm?" Sam mumbles while opening his eyes slowly and looking around. He recognizes Bobby's house approaching fast as they make their way up the bumpy dirt driveway. "We're here?"

"Yeah we are, Rip Van. Now get the fuck out." Dean comes to a full stop and looks over at Sam expectantly. They stare at each other for a beat before Dean raises his eyebrows, as if to ask what Sam was waiting for.

"See you in a few days, Sammy. I'll call you when I'm coming back. Say hi to Bobby for me," Sam mocks in a low tone, reminiscent of Dean's, as he's still shaking the sleep from his mind. "No problem, Dean," he returns to his own voice. "Have fun and rest up for once. It'll be good for you."

"Oh my God, dude. Shut up. I need to go," Dean tells him hurriedly and quite rudely. "The longer you sit here not getting out of my car, the longer it's gonna take me to get halfway across the damn country. Out!"

"You're grumpy when you haven't gotten your dick wet in a while, you know that?" Sam comments while reaching into the back seat for his duffel.

"Gee, you don't fucking say, Sam. Now get outta the car so I can go fix that," Dean quickly returns.

"Tell her I said hi?" Sam asks of his brother.

"Sure."

"Alright. Don't drive like a jackass," Sam says as he opens the car door and steps out. He pushes the door shut with its usual creaking sound and leans into the partially rolled down window. "I'll call if anything…."

Dean guns it mid Sam's sentence, flying down Bobby's driveway, a trail of kicked up dust in his wake.

"…comes up," Sam finishes to himself after stumbling back a few steps.

"Nearly took your head off," Bobby comments as he walks around the house, having seen the hasty way Dean drove off.

"No shit," Sam sighs, still reeling from the quick getaway that almost dragged him along.

"Woulda been nice if he stopped and said hi," Bobby remarks with Dean's lack of conversation with him.

"Yeah but you know Dean. When an opportunity to give it to Lizzy is on the line…"

"Best get outta the way," Bobby finishes with a small smile as he drops a hand on Sam shoulder. "How you doin', Sam?"

"Fine I guess," Sam returns while looking back down the now empty driveway. "Little worried about him, though."

"That why he's heading off to Lizzy's for a few?" Bobby asks while looking suspiciously at Sam.

"Yeah," Sam partially lies, knowing it's also because they both needed time away from each other. "He seemed like he needed it, especially after everything he just went through."

"I hear yeah. Never seen that boy so messed up in my life," Bobby says. Witnessing a constantly frightened Dean was not easy on either of them.

"Me neither, but it's more than just that," Sam begins. "Dean hasn't been himself. Not at all."

"The guy dug himself outta his own grave a little over a month ago. He was in hell. Hate to break it to ya', kid, but he's never gonna be totally the same Dean he used to be." This was true and it was something they all needed to come to terms with.

"I know that, Bobby. I do. And I'd never expect him to not be affected by all that," Sam says sadly. He knew Dean would be a changed person and he's come to accept it. "But I still think something's wrong, beyond just that. He's holding onto something and it's bad."

"Well, you need to be patient," Bobby explains, knowing that Sam is totally right. Dean is struggling silently every day and he can see it happening too. "He'll tell ya' things when he can. You know he can't hide anything from you forever. He needs you as much as you always need him and he'll come around. Maybe Lizzy can jump start that for ya'. If anyone'll get through to him…"

"It'll be her, I know," Sam finishes. "That's exactly why he's headed there alone right now."

"Gotta admit, that's a good plan, Sam," Bobby tells him. "You know, it's kinda nice havin' a chick around to deal with our massive piles of shit, isn't it?" Bobby smiles as he knows how true it is. Lizzy is understanding, caring, and absolute in her love for the three of them. The past half a year would have been impossible without her and currently she's the glue holding their little, highly dysfunctional family together.

"It definitely is," Sam responds. He's loved the fact that they finally have someone who's in touch with, and certainly not fearful of, emotions, whether it be her own or any of theirs. She handles them all with grace and strength when, if she was sane, she would be running full speed in the opposite direction. "About time something went right for us."

"You're tellin' me," Bobby laughs as they head into the house.

* * *

 


	2. Can't Get Enough of Your Love

* * *

One day later Dean pulls the Impala into the small parking area in the back of Lizzy's apartment as the sun just begins to set. It is a little before six at night and about damn time he got there, Dean thinks to himself. He drove even faster than he normally does and how he didn't get pulled over he'll never know. He only slept in his car at a rest stop for a short time around five in the morning. Too excited to sleep, he was only able to get his body to relax for four restless hours before he was up and alert enough to continue. He couldn't wait to get there, to be with her.

During the tedious drive he thought about the two of them a lot, recognizing how odd it felt to be in the place he is, so absolutely happy and head over heels in love with a… girlfriend? Gross. What a weird, uncomfortable label. He always hated that term, even before he was dropped into his current and highly unexpected situation. It felt artificial and childish, and not nearly enough to describe what they were. And the worst part of it all is if he really does have a girlfriend then that makes him someone's… boyfriend. Awful. That's even stranger to think about and way more surreal. Two years ago he would have laughed at someone if they said he'd be in this position by now. Fucking life, man.

He honks once to let her know he's arrived and before he even has his second foot out of the car she's jogging around the corner of the house to greet him, huge smile in place. Her dark hair flies freely behind her as she moves quickly and Dean walks to the front of the car. Standing there and grinning widely, he waits for her to reach him. Damn, every time he sees her he's blown away by his good fortune. She's so beautiful, so fucking sexy, so beyond cool in every way, and so totally perfect for him. How it is that this has worked out so far, he'll never really understand. Then again, maybe he shouldn't try too hard. Let it be what it is and not look too closely. Whenever he analyzes anything, very rarely does he like what he finds. Instead Dean brushes away the negative thoughts and stands tall, bracing himself as he waits for her to practically bowl him over like he knows she's going to.

Lizzy leaps up onto him while squealing her happiness once she reaches him. She wraps her arms around his neck and legs around his waist on impact and Dean catches her, taking a few steps backwards with her forceful momentum to keep his balance in check as he laughs a little. They hold on tightly, hugging away the negative feelings that have collected from the long, lonely days and Dean sighs loudly in relief; something he does every time he sees her after being apart for any length of time. He feels as though he's always holding his breath until he gets her back again and can breathe once more.

Lizzy smiles brightly and looks him over carefully, her usual routine after being away from him. She tries her damnedest to gage where his head is, what shape he's in physically, and make sure he's just simply alright enough to function. Once she's satisfied that he is, she cups his face and grins widely.

"I missed you," she honestly tells him while looking into his eyes finally.

"Missed you t…" Dean gets cut off by her lips. She knows what he was going to say anyways and she wasn't willing to wait the time it took for him to finish the sentence. They haven't seen each other once since they parted ways a few days after the whole Rising of the Witnesses disaster. They spent a few days quietly researching in her apartment with Sam before the two brothers left on a string of hunts and although they currently have a better ratio of days together versus apart than ever before, it's never enough for her. She's always craving more.

"Mmm," Lizzy hums while kissing him and not letting go. They stay there, locked together with Lizzy in his arms in front of the Impala, shamelessly making out like a couple of horny teens. They weren't the kind of people to care about what others think so a little PDA is no issue for them; they never thought twice about it really. That lack of self-consciousness comes with the job description as they were always looked at like they were nuts or up to no good anyways. They might as well always do what they want and all others be damned.

After some time, a car filled with young kids starts hollering out the window at their display. Lizzy laughs against Dean's lips when she hears them and Dean pulls away for just a moment to look at the car filled with kids and give them a shit-eating grin complete with a thumbs up.

"Yeah, dude!" a teenage boy yells out the window of the car.

"Get a room!" one of the other boys yells as they drive off.

"Good idea," Lizzy remarks as she turns his face by his chin back to hers and kisses him again, deeper than before while trying to convey her intentions silently. His hands move to cup her ass and he squeezes playfully, making her even more motivated to get them away from prying eyes. "Inside. Now."

Her demanding tone makes Dean start moving instantly. Anytime she gets insistent like this he knows better than to not listen. Forgoing his bag in the car, his feet begin walking on their own accord. He needs her,  _right now_. When Sam is with him, they do the cordial thing with tame kisses hello and proper behavior in order to be polite. This time, no one was there to dictate their actions. They have free reign to do whatever they please and waiting to tear into each other is  _not_  what either pleased.

Dean blindly navigates the walkway, his feet tripping slightly over the first step in front of the porch. Lizzy giggles lightly with the falter, but keeps kissing him. They barrel through the porch door followed by the house's front door immediately after. Once in the foyer, Lizzy jumps down from her place perched high on him and quickly reaches for his jacket as Dean kicks the door closed with his foot. Suddenly it's a frenzy of lips and hands as soon as they hear the door click into place. Lizzy yanks the green canvas coat she gave him a few years ago off of his shoulders and lets it fall onto the floor. She then backs Dean up until he's standing against the foyer's side wall, her hands pressed to his chest before grasping onto his unbuttoned flannel and shoving that away also. Dean struggles slightly while trying to hastily free his arms behind him from the shirt's sleeves and Lizzy laughs a little with his uncoordinated movements. He's usually the smooth one during times like these so seeing him get caught up is a small delight for her.

"You know you're awful cute when you get all flustered like this," she smiles up to him as he finally gets the shirt off.

"Shut up," he smiles out and leans forward, kissing her once more and helping her out of her own tan leather jacket. He can't stop the corners of his mouth from turning up when he realizes she's wearing her Led Zeppelin t-shirt underneath it.

"You're grinning like an idiot," she comments when she sees him smile suddenly. She reaches out and grasps the bottom hem of his t-shirt, her fingers brushing lightly against his stomach as she does.

"You're wearing the same…" he pauses as his shirt is lifted hastily over his head, "…thing you were wearing when we met." She pauses for a moment to look at him with disbelief. "What?" he asks, confused by her reaction.

"When did you become such a fucking girl?" she smirks to him before pulling him down by the back of his neck to kiss her again, preventing him from saying some lame retort.

As her tongue runs across his bottom lip, Dean finds his comeback he planned on fade away.  He lets her win this one and for once he doesn’t care because God damned did she taste good.

“Good Lord,” Lizzy says as her hands roam his torso, taking in the feel of his well-maintained body.  “Perfect.”  She’s always reduced to a drooling, needy mess by his form.  And his eyes.  And his lips, oh God, his lips. 

Dean returns with a prideful smirk before squeezing her ass one more time, pulling her hips into his own.  She purrs with the feeling and Dean swiftly flips their position, Lizzy with her back against the wall now as his need to take control wins over.  His hands feel her body, each beautiful curve bringing him closer to the breaking point where he’ll just give up and take her on the spot.  She did this to him all the time, made him hotter than any other girl ever has.  He was helpless against his feelings for her, and his need to be connected to her at all times.  “So fucking sexy,” he tells her, his voice going lower as his mouth is just millimeters from her ear.

Lizzy bites her bottom lip and closes her eyes with the sound, coming undone with that gravelly tone he uses on her.  “Hearing your voice in person is _so_ much better than over the phone.”

Dean, keeping his mouth to her ear, reaches for the button of her pants.  “You like the way my voice sounds?”  He’s already well aware of the answer and loves to abuse the knowledge whenever he can.

“ _Love_ the way your voice sounds,” she says while opening her lids and turning to him, kissing him, but Dean leans away once her jeans are open.

“Then my voice is telling you to lose that bra,” he says quietly and reaches out to stop her hands when she attempts to lift her shirt over her head.  “Nope.  The shirt stays.  Just the bra needs to go.” 

“Such a sentimentalist,” Lizzy jokes, knowing he wants her to keep it on because it reminds him of when they’d met.  It was adorable, really, but she’d never tell him that.  At least not right _now._

Lizzy begins taking her bra off without removing her shirt and he starts lowering her pants.  Lizzy gets the hint and toes out of her boots, kicking them to the side.  Now kneeling on the floor and setting to work on getting her legs free, Dean drags his tongue slowly across her taut stomach as he does.  She’s put back a little of the weight she’d lost when he’d been gone and she looks healthy again, and perfect, more like the Lizzy he’s familiar with.  It makes him happy to know she’s doing better, no longer in that horrible place his time downstairs and Lou’s death had put her in.  Once he gets her pants and socks fully off, he looks up from the floor, a hand running up and down each side of her waist, and immediately is greeted by her bra dropping onto his face.

He hears her giggle while his vision is impaired, enjoying her moment of silliness.  She was goofy at times, something he’s grown quite fond of over time.  Standing up, dropping her lingerie to the floor as he does, he kisses her again.  Lizzy brings her hands around the back of his head, weaving her fingers through his short hair, and presses her body into his, craving the contact as she grows more impatient every second.   Dean’s hands move up her sides and pull up her shirt as he does, letting it bunch up and rest above her breasts, exposing her to him.  His hands don’t stop there.  They take on a mind of their own, once again taking in the feel of her soft skin and smooth curves before his fingers run down the length of her arms and wrap around her wrists.  Lizzy feels her limbs being raised over her head and she moans when she feels his lips leave hers and start in on her neck. 

“Mm,” she buzzes as her hips grind against his.  “So glad you’re here.”  With other men she’s been with in the past, she wouldn’t be so free and relaxed with her arms pinned above her head against a wall and made completely immobile.  She never used to enjoy being restricted in any way during sex, always feeling stifled and highly objectified.  With other men, she’d been the control freak, dictating every move, but with Dean she was different.  There was an instant trust between them, even during that first night they spent together.  Now somehow it isn’t demeaning or unsettling at all to let him take over.  It is liberating to have him be dominant and ask her to be totally unquestioning of him.  Honestly, she’d grown to really, _really_ enjoy it.

Dean, on the other hand, has always liked being the more domineering one when it came to sex and it didn’t matter who with or how well he knew her.  It felt like he had command over something and he readily took it, feeling like he could have complete say over at least one thing in his life.  It made him believe that not everything was out of his hands, even when increasingly it felt that way.  However with Lizzy, it was more of a possessive thing.  He needed to show that she was his, to take her and make sure she’d never go anywhere.  He is quite certain that she’d never leave him and that his feelings for her were completely mutual, but the thought of that ever happening scares the life out of him.  She’s come to be the one thing in his life that really, truly made it all better and bearable.  He can’t afford to lose that, ever.

Moving back to kiss her again, Dean’s lips find her mouth as one of his hands drags slowly down her stomach until they find her panties, ghosting over the cloth between her legs.  She jumps at first but then hums with the contact and quickly melts right back into his touch as he pulls the thin cloth to the side and begins working her over.  He stands so close to her there’s barely any room between them, just enough to complete his work thoroughly.

“Oh shit,” she breathes out while her lids slowly shut.  Her hands are still held securely above her head, and she presses her forehead to his, unable to concentrate even the small amount required to kiss him back while Dean fuels her fire.  His hands move expertly, having used their past experiences together to know exactly what he needed to do to get her going.  Dean stares her down, watching her face as it shows everything she feels on it.

“Love watching you like this,” he says as he slips his fingers inside of her, making her knees even weaker than they already were.  “So hot.  So needy for me.”

“Always,” she breathes out, her pleasure rapidly building.  “Mm, always need you.” 

“What do you need now?” Dean asks her, fingers moving faster and grip on her wrists high above her head getting even tighter.

“You.  Need you,” she pants out, not sure if she’s making sense or not, losing herself in the sensation.

“How do you need me?” Dean pushes her, wanting to hear her say it all. 

“Oh God,” Lizzy moans as an answer.

“C’mon L, not gonna get what you want if you don’t tell me what I want to hear,” Dean grins sinfully, loving her reaction.  “How… do you… need… me?”  He draws out the question, punctuating every last word and letting her know that he wants an answer.  A correct answer.  Her face twists with the building heat within her and she does what she can to tell him.

“I need you… inside me,” she spills the words out as if afraid she’d forget them if she waited.  “Please, Dean.  Please.”  She looks up to him with craving and lust-filled eyes.  She’s begging for him now, and as much as she knows her pride is taking a hit as Lizzy is not one to beg for anything, she ignores the fact.  She knows what she wants and so desperately needs.

“I _am_ inside you,” Dean challenges, trying to see just how crazy he can make her. 

“Not… oh my God,” Lizzy’s eyes temporarily roll to the back of her head as he’s relentless in his pursuits.  He very adeptly employs the use of his thumb and she immediately falters a little, her knees buckling and Dean has to pull her back up by her arms.  “Not… fingers,” she finally gets out.

“Then what?” Dean asks with levity, as if he doesn’t know, though he’s not sure how much longer he himself can hold out.  The site she’s creating is almost more than he can handle.  Almost.

Lizzy opens her eyes again and focuses on Dean’s, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts properly before answering with clear, concise determination.  “I want that big cock of yours.  Inside me.  Now, Dean.  Please.”  She says it sternly, making sure he knows that there is no doubt in her mind.  This is _exactly_ what she wants.

“That’s my girl,” Dean smirks once he hears the magic words as he kisses her deeply again while curing his fingers and aiming to give her the release she deserves for letting him hear what he wanted to hear.  She practically screams out against his lips with the change in sensation.  Dean lifts his head once more and watches her writhe against the wall, the villainous amusement he gets from observing her satisfying his more twisted needs.

She’s right on the edge, they both know it.  Her hands ball up, her nails digging into his hand that keeps them pinned to the wall.  The bruise will be well worth it, he thinks.  “Oh God,” she loudly moans as her body gives in completely to Dean’s efforts.  “Dean!  Yes!  Oh my God!”

He huffs a very quiet laugh at the show she puts on, self-satisfaction taking over.  “I fucking love that,” he comments with sheer elation and love as he sees her come down from the moment.  He lets her go completely to reach for his own belt and while undoing the leather strap, he looks up at her now open eyes and winks.  “Go get on the stairs.”

Lizzy, breathing hard and trying to gather her rambling brain enough to register his direction, stands leaning against the wall for a quick second as she recovers.  She watches Dean remove the remainder of his clothing and thinks to herself that this is what makes life so worth living.  The loss, the misery, the fright, all of it.  As long as she can have this, nothing else mattered.  She gets caught up enjoying her self-indulgent staring when Dean looks over to her and smiles.  He’s already smiled more times since he pulled into her driveway than he has in all the time they’ve been apart.

“Hey,” Dean calls to her, trying to pull her back to reality.  “Stairs.”  He nudges his head in the direction of the staircase, reminding her of what she should be doing.

“Sorry.  I was… just trying to figure out…” Lizzy steps in front of him, pulling him into another heated kiss before finishing her sentence as her lips brush against his.  “…which way you wanted to take me.  From the front or the back?”  She smiles playfully up at him, her lust in absolute overdrive now.

“Fuck,” Dean huffs out, surprised by the excellent question she asks.  “Lady’s choice.”

“Ooh, the back it is then.”  Lizzy kisses him slowly one more time before making quick work of her panties.  She climbs up onto the steps while facing away from him.  Her knees perched on the second to last step, in the very place she sat a little over a month ago when he’d kissed her for the first time since he’d been in hell.  Looking over her shoulder she gives him her usual bright smile that’s now coated in absolute want and desire for him and with that vision before him Dean couldn’t have gotten to her fast enough. 

Within a second he's standing close behind her, her back pressed to his stomach, and he turns her head to the side by her cheek to kiss her again when he hears the now all too familiar fluttering sound.

“We need to talk,” the flat and stern voice calls to him from behind where he’s facing.

* * *

 


	3. Ain't No Rest for the Hunters

* * *

"We need to talk," the flat and stern voice calls to Dean from behind where he's facing.

"You have  _got_  to be fucking kidding me!" Dean yells in frustration as he recognizes the voice immediately. He turns his head around and sees just who he assumed he would staring right back at his bare-assed self.

"Oh my God!" Lizzy shouts when she sees what Dean is yelling about. "How the fuck…?"

Dean quickly yet calmly reaches for his jacket on the hardwood foyer floor to cover them up with something. Lizzy spins around, eyes huge with the surprise, and does her best to hide herself behind Dean so that the sudden intruder doesn't see everything she had on display.

"What the fuck, Castiel!?" Dean shouts as he drops the coat over the two of them and Lizzy pulls her shirt back down.

"Is this an inconvenient time?" Castiel questions, standing by the closed front door and never taking his eyes off of the two scrambling on the stairs.

"Does it  _look_  inconvenient to you?" Lizzy loudly asks with shock at the angel's audacious invasion. Dean holds his hand out to stop her, knowing that sometimes Castiel has a hard time determining the difference between proper and improper.

"Ah, the polite thing to do here would be to give us a moment to make ourselves decent," Dean informs the angel, trying his best to help him understand. Castiel doesn't move, just looks at Dean as if studying his thoughts. "Or at least not stare, dude."

"Right," Castiel says while awkwardly turning to face the stained glass windows of the front door and waiting patiently. "My apologies."

Lizzy sighs heavily with her disbelief over what is happening as Dean gathers her things and tosses them to her on the stairs. They both dress in the very basics quickly, forgoing underwear and only putting on what will cover them up best as they rush.

"So much for being by ourselves for once," Lizzy comments under her breath, thoroughly disappointed by the unexpected visitor as she buttons up her jeans. They just can't catch a break.

"No shit," Dean replies, pulling his shirt back over his head and taking a seat next to Lizzy on the stairs. "Alright, we're good."

"Good," Castiel says back while turning to face them once more. "Because I need to talk to you."

"Yeah, heard you the first time," Dean impatiently replies. "What's up? And if this is about something that's gonna take me away from here right now, you can go ahead and shove it up your ass because I  _just_  got here."

"How would I shove…" Castiel starts to question but chooses not to finish the question once he realizes it's most likely just an expression. Instead he sighs, frustrated. "Here  _is_  the problem."

"What are you talking about?" Lizzy quickly questions.

"Well, we've picked up on some… disturbances," Castiel informs them.

"We?" Dean wonders.

"The garrison and I," Castiel replies succinctly.

"Disturbances? What's that mean?" Dean asks.

"It means that something is here, in this general area of the world," Castiel explains. "I suggest you be on high alert."

"How can you tell that?" Lizzy asks, curiosity getting her once again. The angel always intrigued her. He was mysterious, only giving half-truths at best to them and he's something new that they didn't understand just yet. She wants to know what his deal is… and what her own deal is since apparently according to heaven she has one.

"We have the ability to sense these sort of things." Castiel continues to look blankly at the two. Over the past month Dean has gotten used to that, but Lizzy, not so much. She always feels as if she's being picked apart and peered right into by his clear blue eyes. Fucking eerie.

"So angels can sense when there is a disturbance in the force?" Dean wonders out loud, getting himself a quiet laugh from Lizzy.

"Exactly."

"Jesus Christ," Lizzy remarks under her breath while giggling louder with Castiel's confirmation, knowing he's unaware of his own reference.

"He isn't a part of this," Castiel explains with zero levity to which Lizzy bursts out laughing at the conversation. She knows she should be more respectful considering what he is and all but his lack of basic human understanding and experience makes him unique… and hilarious. Now the angel looks at her with not a blank stare but pure annoyance.

Dean, not being able to help himself, brings a hand over his mouth trying to cover his own snicker.

"This dude… is fucking great," Lizzy breaks out through her happiness while wiping her watery eyes.

"I don't understand what's so funny," Castiel tells them, getting angry with their lack of concern and their deficiency of respect.

"Alright, look," Dean begins in an even tone, looking briefly at Lizzy with seriousness to let her know she needs to relax. "I am on vacation here. My batteries are drained, Cas. I need to get the fuck away for just a couple days. So we will keep our eyes and ears open but for now, that's all you get."

"Dean, this could be very important to…" Castiel begins.

"When is it not?" Dean exasperatedly cuts in, his patience wearing very thin. "It's always important. It's always life and death. This time, I choose to live my fucking life for a few days. No killing monsters or hunting demons or dealing with angels popping in while I'm in the middle of getting laid, which I really needed to do!" He shouts out the last part as his frustrations get the best of him. Lizzy links her arm in his when she sees his anger growing, trying her best to head him off before he gets too riled up.

Castiel knits his brows together and looks at Dean for a moment, thinking deeply, before his face softens again.

"And I swear," Dean continues, "if you bring that raging, dickless asshole Uriel into this…"

"Fine," Castiel cuts in.

"Fine?" Dean asks with the simple answer.

"Yes, fine. I will leave you alone for the next two days. You very clearly need to rest and… fornicate."

"Uh, I freakin' love that word," Lizzy says very seriously despite her actual statement and Dean just smiles slightly with lifted eyebrows at her comment. He agrees. It is a funny word.

"But I will be back in two days, not a second less," Castiel warns. "This issue won't go away and if I am right,  _you better watch yourselves_  these next few days."

"We will," Lizzy promises.

"I mean it!" Castiel forewarns in a booming voice.

"Scouts honor," Dean vows with his right hand raised. "We'll be on the lookout." If the angel is this concerned, they  _will_  watch their own backs. He hasn't been wrong yet so Dean doesn't let the request for caution on their part fall on deaf ears.

"Good." With that, the angel disappears again with the sound of fight and they are left to their own devices.

"Cool trick," Lizzy comments with his vanishing, having never witnessed it before.

"Yeah, it's awesome," Dean sarcastically comments while rubbing his eyes. He's actually getting quite sick of this trick really quickly.

"Think he knew what we were up to when he just… um… flew? In here?" Lizzy looks over to Dean with a smirk.

"Hell, he probably didn't even know what  _it_  was," Dean tells her with a sigh. "He's like a lost five year old with super powers."

"Does that mean you'll have to give Superman  _the big talk_  later?" Lizzy asks while playfully leaning into him and nudging his shoulder.

"God, I hope not," Dean huffs while washing his hand down his face.

"Should we be concerned here, Dean?" she wonders, knowing something has to be happening to make Castiel warn them like he just did.

"A little," he brushes off. "If it really was a huge problem, Cas wouldn't left us to our own devices for a couple of days. The fact that he was willing to leave us alone makes me think we'll be ok if we're cautious."

"Then we should probably salt the doors and windows, get some holy water ready…"

"You know, I'm starting to think I will never know what a  _real_  vacation is," Dean laments, feeling like he'll always be working for the rest of his life.

"You don't get to have real vacations, honey," Lizzy says patronizingly while kissing his forehead and standing up from her stair, the wad of clothes in her hands. "You're Dean Winchester. That's just how it is." She smiles warmly and makes her way up the stairs.

"Then can't I be someone else?" Dean sadly says, dropping his head in his hands. "This is fucking tiring."

Lizzy turns around from the top of the stairs with a wrinkled expression. "Hey," she calls down to him and Dean turns to face her. "You're amazing. No one else could do what you do, not one. The world would be fucked right up the ass without you and Sam. And yeah, that sucks… big time, and it isn't fair. But I love who you are and definitely don't want to hear you say you'd rather be someone else. Ever."

"Yeah," Dean sighs, only able to partially believe her. "Sorry. It's just that everything is so…"

"Completely overwhelming at times?"

"Seriously, get the fuck outta my head," Dean grins to her as she once again correctly finishes his sentence for him.

"Seriously, get the fuck  _up here_ ," she retorts while walking down the hall and disappearing into her bedroom. "I believe you have some unfinished business to attend to before demon proofing this joint!"

He hears her words call out to him and is immediately on his feet. Dean is up the stairs in a second, down the hall in two and they get down to it, finishing their task at hand.

* * *

"Hello, Sam."

The sober words are heard loud and crystal clear, cutting through the silence Sam had been sitting in. He jumps in his seat on the cot in Bobby's study with the surprise and looks up with wide eyes from the book he'd been engrossed in.

"Shit!" Sam shouts, still stunned slightly and slapping a hand to his forehead as he wills his heart to slow. "Castiel. A little warning would've been nice."

"I thought my greeting would be sufficient enough," he responds seriously

Sam looks up at the angel with disbelief. "Yeah. Worked swimmingly," he says with sarcasm.

"Good," Castiel returns, not picking up on the bite in Sam's words. "I need to talk."

"Well, Dean's not here. He's in Massachusetts with Lizzy," Sam informs him, assuming Castiel is looking for his brother since usually he is. They already seem to be quite linked to one another.

"I know. I dropped in just a minute ago. He was of no help. He says he is taking a vacation."

"Uh, yeah. He is," Sam explains, taking the open book he'd been reading off his lap and placing it on the cot next to him. "He needs a little time off after everything."

"So he told me, or rather yelled at me," Castiel says. Sam huffs a quiet laugh with the comment.

"Never interrupt a grizzly bear during mating season," Sam quips mostly to himself.

"Why do you speak of bears?"

"Never mind," Sam smirks. "What's going on?"

"There's something happening in the northeast," he begins to explain. "Specifically in the area Lizzy resides in."

"Like what?" Sam questions with high alert.

"Something demonic possibly," Castiel explains. "I've felt it. Something is off."

"You felt it?" Sam wonders with surprise.

"Yes. I have been keeping vigil over certain places and people…"

"Lizzy being one of them?" Sam interrupts.

"She is," the angel confirms. "And something is happening there, or something is there. Possibly demonic in nature. I warned them both but they seemed less than sufficiently concerned."

"Oh, I don't doubt that."

"They seemed…" Castiel pauses in order to find the right word, "distracted."

Sam, knowing what Castiel must have dropped in on, just shakes his head no is response.

"I can't be focused on them at all times," the angel explains. "There are other quite pressing matters at hand not on Earth. Even if it goes against my better judgment, I am asking for  _your_ help."

"Sure," Sam agrees a little unnerved, knowing that with his free time activities the angel is still very suspect of him. "What do you need me to do?"

"Figure out what it is that's in the area. And make sure that both Dean and Lizzy are being completely cautious. They did not take me as seriously as I believe they should have."

"Will do," Sam promises and with that the angel disappears. "Thanks for droppin' in," he says exaggeratedly to the now empty air in front of him. Castiel very clearly has not come around to Sam in the least.

Sam contemplates calling Dean, but then decides better of it. He should probably wait if he wants to get an answer… they're probably busy.

* * *

 


	4. Meteorologists are Nerds

* * *

Dean slowly pries his eyes open when he hears muffled music playing and lifts his head to look around the room he's been asleep in. Lizzy's bedroom comes into focus and he drops his head back onto the pillow, relaxing with a smile at the comforting sight. He must have dozed off after they finished properly greeting each other and he thinks it was nice of her to let him rest. In the past three or so days he's only caught a few short hours of sleep. He's highly deprived and knowing Lizzy she knew that just by looking at him.

Stretching out under the soft, billowy, non-motel-quality covers and inhaling deeply, something wonderful smelling fills his nose. Then he hears movement in the kitchen. Chopping maybe, he thinks. Holy shit… she's cooking. He's going to eat real food for once, not something wrapped in paper or deep fried to death. Wow, if this is how regular people live, he could easily get used to being a regular person.

Standing up and searching for his clothes, Dean gets dressed and realizes he needs to get his things out of the car. And get into a shower asap. That's another thing he hasn't done in a little while and it's a good thing Lizzy didn't notice. Or maybe she just didn't care.

He heads out of the comforting room and walks down the hallway, pausing in the kitchen doorway to watch her at work. She's standing at one of the counter, dicing tomatoes and singing along to 'Wild Fire Woman' playing on her IPod dock. She's swaying her hips with the music, something she always does when she hears a song she loves. Lizzy could never stand still when music was playing. She only has on her light blue panties she'd been wearing before and a simple white wife-beater tank. Her hair is up in a messy ponytail, long bangs sweeping over her right eye, and she's smiling as she works. She looked so damn good that Dean briefly thinks he's ready for round two.

"It's alive!" Lizzy jokes as she spies him in the doorway, pulling his gaze off of her body and onto her eyes. Dean holds his hands up and shakes them with joking surprise before taking the few steps needed to stand behind her. He wraps his arms around her waist and drops an innocent kiss onto the side of her neck.

"Thanks for letting me sleep."

"Sure seemed like you needed it," she laughs. "I don't even think you totally finished before you passed out."

"You wore me out," Dean jests, though there was some truth to the statement.

"Yeah, that or you haven't slept in days."

"Eh, we'll call it both. What're you making?"

"A dinner that has fresh ingredients and is, gasp, healthy!" she exclaims happily.

"Uh," he complains, but not seriously. "Vile word."

"Dude, you have to start eating healthier one of these days or you're gonna have a heart attack at the age of thirty-five!" She smiles at her own scolding. Who was she kidding? While on the road she eats the same kind of crappy food that he does. "And come to find out, I totally don't suck at cooking so healthy or not, it'll still taste good."

"I'll be the judge of that," he comments while reaching out, stealing a sliced piece of green bell pepper and popping it into his mouth before returning his arm to her waist.

"And if you know what's good for you, you'll say you like it no matter what," she giggles. "You know, having a home base and being able to do normal things like cook a freakin' meal now and then, I have to say, it's been nice."

"It's good to see that you're giving it an honest try," Dean tells her. "It's all I wanted for you."

"Why thank you, but I'm only trying it on a part-time basis," she reminds. "I can't leave hunting when I seem to be so tangled up in it, and I still fucking love it if I'm being honest, but I like having a stationary, not-on-wheels home again. And I am super close to being a certified ass kicker. Can't give up on that now!" After keeping up on her fight training at a local self-defense center once she was on her own, her teacher suggested that she train to become a self-defense instructor with her already considerable skills. Lizzy loved the idea and soon enough she was studying to do so with the goal of teaching other women how to be independent and strong enough to take on anything that came their way. It's become something she wholeheartedly believes in.

"No way," Dean jests, though he knows she's excited about becoming an instructor. She's talked about it nonstop since starting and he clearly sees how much she loves it.

"Oh, my classes are from nine to eleven tomorrow morning, by the way," she remembers to tell him. "So, I'll be gone for a few hours. You'll probably sleep through that though. Won't even know I'm gone."

"Most likely," he smiles, looking forward to a solid night of real, uninterrupted sleep.

"I do want you to come by the center at some point though. The facility is great and honestly… I want to spar with you," she says with a mischievous grin as she drops her work and turns around to face him, one eyebrow cocked while leaning back on the counter.

"You want to fight me?" Dean asks with surprise while placing his hands on the edge of the counter at either side of her.

"Absolutely," she says with sly undertones. It'd been something she's thought about many times and knows she can handle. "I want to kick your ass."

"You couldn't kick my ass," Dean confidently proclaims. Lizzy makes a surprised face and snakes her arms around his neck.

"You sound so sure of that," she says back while licking her lips with the challenge.

"Because I am sure. You could never take me," he returns, leaning in closer to her. Somehow he finds the idea of fighting Lizzy less wrong and more arousing than he probably should.

"Oh, I can take you," she responds in a serious tone. "I can take all of you."

"You could never handle all of me," Dean says with his lips brushing hers, the double meaning not lost on him.

"That's it," she backs away with sudden need to prove him wrong. "It's on, Hot Shot. You are going down!

"You just name the day and time, sweetheart," Dean smirks, eyes level with hers. "I will wreck you."

"Ha, can't wait to see you try," Lizzy simply responds, knowing he's in for one hell of a battle and he just doesn't know it yet. She'll make him eat his ego for this one. She lands a quick kiss on his lips. "But honestly, I think I found my other calling. Kicking monster ass and teaching women how to kick male ass. Pretty fucking cool if you ask me."

"And it seems to make you really happy," Dean tells her. He's noticed the change over the past month. She's doing much better and he couldn't be more excited for that. "And I'm a little jealous. This new life you have is better than anything I've got going." Dean says it sadly. He envies that she's been able to live at least semi-normally.

"I think that someday you'll figure it all out," Lizzy tells him. "You'll see. And I'll be right here waiting for you when you can get away. We'll quit together… or do the part-time thing together. Whatever works."

Dean leans down and kisses her, his way of thanking her for her never-ending support and unlikely optimism.

"So," Lizzy interrupts, "You've had it pretty rough lately."

"Yeah," Dean agrees.

"You gonna fill me in?" Lizzy looks up at him, concern in her face.

"Tomorrow," he says and kisses her forehead sweetly. "Tonight I relax and pretend that life is easy. We'll talk about reality tomorrow."

"As much as I'm dying to know everything, that's fine with me. You got yourself a free night."

"Thank you. Now, I'm gonna run to the car and get my stuff. Then I seriously need a shower," he explains while kissing her quickly one more time and letting go. He jokingly lifts his arm, takes a whiff, and makes a disgusted face.

Lizzy laughs in return while getting back to chopping tomatoes. "Yeah, well monster guts aren't supposed to make you smell like roses."

Dean smiles. "Um, you remember where my jacket is?"

"On the floor downstairs where you left it," she winks to him while getting back on task and chopping more vegetables. "Also, I told some people we'd go to my bar tonight, grab some drinks."

"Oh yeah?" Dean asks, a little saddened that he'll have to leave the apartment. He exhausted and really just wants to hang out the two of them. Whoa, did he really just have that thought? This may be the first time he's not wanted to go to a bar.

"Yeah. There are some people I want you to meet, old friends and whatnot," Lizzy tells him with a grin, excited for him to meet the few people she still has in her life. "Plus, drinks are on me!"

"Well, when you put it that way," Dean smiles. Obviously this is important to her so he'll suck it up and go without complaints.

"Then we can come back here and you can sleep for fifteen hours straight!"

"Yes! Now that is a plan!" Dean says while making his way down the stairs. He grabs his jacket off the hardwood floor and heads out the door to his car. Opening the trunk, he takes out an empty duffel and fills it with the big canister of salt, his sawed-off, silver knives, rosary beads, chalk, and anything else they might need to secure the apartment. Castiel's warning definitely landed and he's ready to do what he can to keep them both safe while here.

Next he takes out his bag of clothes and personal items from the back seat and his phone from the front seat. He sees he has a voicemail from Sam so he slings the bags over his shoulder while holding the phone to his ear to listen and begins walking back around the house.

Hey Dean. So Castiel just dropped by… flew by, as I'm sure you probably assumed he would after leaving you. Hope he didn't interrupt too badly, ha. Just wanted to make sure…

Dean freezes when he senses something and it puts him on high alert. He stands still in the walkway while having the eerie feeling he's way too familiar with and keeps listening to the message while searching the side yard around him.

…you guys are being cautious and everything. Castiel seemed really concerned, so take that for what it's worth. If anything happens call us right away. Have fun and try to get some sleep, huh?

He closes the phone and pushes it into his back pocket. It feels like someone is watching him and he's unsettled by it. Something moves by a tree behind him and he jerks around quickly, turning just in time to see a squirrel run up a tree trunk. He shakes his head, the feeling suddenly gone but still unsettled by the whole thing. Must be the lack of sleep, he thinks to himself before continuing on his way inside. He always grows more and more paranoid as he gets more and more tired.

As soon as he closes the front door, he drops down to the floor and takes out the salt, pouring a thick line across the doorway before checking under the area rug to make sure a devil's trap is under it. As he expected, Lizzy had one already there. Even if he thinks he's overreacting to nothing, it's always better to be safe than sorry. Every good hunter knows that.

* * *

"Whoa," Sam says loudly from the table in the kitchen, his laptop open in front of him. Looking for anything that will clue them in on what's it is that Castiel warned them about, he quickly shoots a look over to Bobby who is in the study with his nose in a book after coming across some interesting information. "You check the weather forecast for out east yet?"

"No but judgin' by your reaction to it, I'm guessing it ain't good," Bobby assumes while looking up from his desk.

"Not at all," Sam explains with concern written on his face. "There's a huge blizzard heading their way."

"In the middle of October?" Bobby questions, standing and swiftly walking over to Sam in order to take a look for himself.

"Yeah. A nor'easter they call it. Supposed to hit tomorrow around noon and go for almost twenty-four hours straight. Holy crap!" Sam says while pointing to a statistic. "They're calling for at least three feet, but it could be up to five in some parts."

"Odd," Bobby comments. "Isn't it really early for a massive snow storm to hit that part of the east coast?"

"That's what all the meteorologists are saying," Sam confirms as he clicks play on a local news channel's weather forecast video. Bobby leans down and watches over Sam's shoulder as a slightly goofy looking man in a suit stands in front of a map of southern New England and speaks with sheer glee.

"Winter's coming early my friends!" he smiles into the camera. "So pull out the shovels and snow blowers and get your winter coats out of the attic. We're looking at a doozie!"

"Could he be any happier?" Sam wonders aloud with the ridiculous enthusiasm the overly tan man exudes.

"These guys thrive on this shit," Bobby grumbles before they listen once more.

"Expect the snow to start around noon out in Rhode Island and parts of Connecticut and by two o'clock in Boston. Flurries at first will soon turn to white outs as the snow will be falling fast and furious! By noon Sunday we will be looking at an easy three feet, up to five in some parts."

He begins excitedly talking about breaking snowfall records for the month of October, but one detail catches the hunters' attention. "…is that meteorologists have not seen a snow storm form so rapidly since the monstrous Blizzard of '78. You baby boomers remember that one! Well, get ready to possibly relive it! Stock up now and get comfy!"

Sam pauses the video and looks to Bobby with concern. "A freak storm that just popped up outta nowhere."

"Yup." Bobby knows what Sam is thinking because he's thinking it too.

"What are the chances that this has nothing to do with Castiel's visit?"

"Ah, I'd say slim to fuckin' none," Bobby responds while standing back up.

"And get this; Lizzy's hometown had severe electrical storms last night and into early morning," Sam tacks on. "Several buildings got struck, some burning down to the ground."

"Well, balls," Bobby complains. "We're lookin' at omens. Big ones."

"That's what I thought," Sam says while reaching once again into his back pocket for his phone to call Dean and give him the heads up. "Something is definitely going down."

"Better share the news with dumb and dumber then," Bobby comments while walking back towards his desk to keep reading. "Maybe this time they'll answer."

* * *

 


	5. Don't Need Nothin', But a Good Time

* * *

"Jenny!" Lizzy calls when she sees her friend walk into the bar. She and Dean had just gotten to her place of work, drinks not yet ordered, and she's psyched for him to get the chance to meet some of the people who kept her going during his time in hell. The tall, long-legged brunette walks over to where they are seated at the bar and flashes a huge, genuine smile.

"Dean, this is my old high school friend, Jenny," Lizzy introduces. "She used to cause all kinds of trouble with Louie and me back in the day."

"I think you mean that you two used to get in trouble constantly and then bring me down with you!" Jenny responds brightly. Dean holds out his hand for a formal greeting and Jenny swats it away. "Are you kidding me with that? Bring it in!" She moves in for a hug, surprising him with her forwardness.

"Nice to meet you, I think," Dean awkwardly says once her arms are around him and he hugs her back, looking over Jenny's shoulder to give Lizzy a wide-eyed look of surprise.

"Any dude of Lizzy's is a friend of mine," Jenny says while backing away. "It's so good to finally meet you. I get to put a face with the name and many, many stories."

"Many, many?" Dean questions Lizzy.

"Eh, I miss when you aren't around," she explains, cheeks turning pink.

"And with the way you introduce yourself, it's pretty clear to me now that you two are good friends," Dean comments. It's exactly what Lizzy would have done.

"Yeah, she fit right in with us," Lizzy laughs.

Jenny takes up the bar stool next to Dean and eyes him over. "Nice work, Liz," she winks over to her friend on the other side of Dean.

"Why thank you," Lizzy says across him as if he weren't there.

"Don't make em' much better looking than this," Jenny observes, jerking her thumb in Dean's direction and making him grin with pride at the compliment. This girl's demeanor reminds him of Lou. She used to talk just like this, no concern for how the object of her comments was feeling. It makes him miss her, even if they never truly got along. She had many qualities he found endearing, this being one of them.

"Hey!" Jim calls out with fake anger as he approaches the group. "Watch it wife! I'm standing right here!" He laughs as he kisses Jenny's cheek sweetly despite what he just said.

"Aww, honey," Jenny jokes. "You know you're the best looking man in the whole wide world in my eyes."

"Yeah, yeah," Jim brushes off, used to Jenny's taunts, before turning his attention to Dean. "Hi. I'm Jim. This one's fiancé," he says while nodding his head at Jenny and shaking Dean's hand.

"Dean. Nice to meet you."

"So you're the mysterious ghostbuster Lizzy speaks of, huh?" Jim asks with nonchalance, taking a seat next to Jenny and Dean gives him a nervous look before whipping his head in Lizzy's direction, looking for an explanation as to why this stranger knows his biggest secret.

"Remember I told you about the ghost I took care of for some friends while you were away?" Lizzy says, eyebrows raised in the expectation that he'll recall what she had told him about the hunt and go with it.

"Right," he nods as his memory recalls what she'd told him. "Ah, the angry spirit that popped up with the renovations."

"Yes! Well, these are the friends I helped," Lizzy tells them. "Once I told them about my guy they wanted to know more about you, like how we met and where you were. I explained how you travel a lot, doing the same kind of stuff for people all over the country that I did for them and that's how our paths eventually crossed."

"That's all you told them though, right?" Dean leans forward and whispers, scared of what Lizzy might have let them in on. He knows she's smarter than to tell them too much, but his panicked feelings need confirmation that she indeed didn't.

"Hot Shot, what do you take me for?" Lizzy whispers back and drops her hand on his knee in reassurance. Her comforting smile relaxes him once more.

Dean nods again, accepting the circumstance, and turns back to Jim. "Yeah, I guess that's me then."

"So do you go by Stantz or Spengler?" Jim asks, trying to put Dean at ease as he saw how nervous he became with the comment.

"Neither. I'm much more of a Venkman," Dean smirks.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Jenny adds in, also noticing how uncomfortable Dean looked. "We're cool with it. Hell, we're more than cool with it since the shit that you do helped us from having to move and eat a huge debt. Trust us, you're secret's safe."

"Good," Dean breathes out and calms a bit as a bartender approaches them.

"Hey Lizzy!" the young man says as he leans forward over the bar towards her.

"Johnny!" Lizzy shouts as she pushes up from her seat and kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks again for taking my shift tonight!"

"Not a problem," he responds before turning his attention to the man next to her. "You must be Dean." Another hand shake.

"The one and only," Dean responds, starting to feel like a politician with all the formalities.

"Johnny's the one who trained me when I first started," Lizzy explains. "He's by far the most fun person I work with here. Solid dude."

"Aww, I'm blushing," Johnny jokes.

"Thanks for giving Lizzy the night off, man," Dean tells him. "We don't always get to see much of each other so I really appreciate that."

"Not a problem at all. All the nights she's taken shifts for me, I owe her!" he laughs. "What'll it be guys?"

"El Sol," Lizzy announces with a smile Dean's way, knowing he was about to order that very beer.

"Same," Dean replies.

"Aw, hell," Jenny says. "Same for us and a round of Jameson shots."

"Oh, I like her already," Dean comments with her order as Johnny leaves to get everything.

"Ha, thought you would," Lizzy smiles. She loves that Dean appears to be getting comfortable with the situation she's thrown him into. And she loves even more that she gets to show him off a little for once instead of just talk about the secretive guy she's with. It makes him real to everyone she knows and she's more than proud to be with him so the whole thing makes her simply delighted.

"So, you guys ready for the storm?" Jim asks while waiting for their drinks.

"Uh, what storm?" Lizzy questions, unfamiliar with what Jim mentions.

"The huge, freak October nor'easter that's coming tomorrow afternoon?" Jenny adds, eyes wide. "What, have you been living under a rock, Liz?"

"Guess so," Lizzy shrugs.

"Isn't fall kinda early for a snow storm?" Dean asks, though he knows it has to be.

"It's wicked early," Jenny tells him. "But then again it  _is_  New England. It could snow in fucking July."

"Problem is, the cities aren't ready this early for all that snow," Jim adds. "It could be a disaster. Gotta be ready to be snowed in for days straight in case the clean-up is going to be as slow going as they're saying."

"Yikes," Lizzy says. "I'm gonna have to go get some stuff tomorrow. Food and whatnot."

"And beer," Dean adds with a smile.

"Yes, and beer," Lizzy confirms, mirroring his smile. It  _was_  a necessity after all.

Johnny places the drinks in front of the group and Lizzy stops him.

"I only see four shots here," Lizzy says to him overly disappointed while tapping on the bar with her index finger. "Ah, where's yours?"

"I'm working!" Johnny complains. "It's so early, Lizzy! You start making me take shots now and I won't make it to the end of the night."

"Boo hoo!" Jenny yells at him while crumpling a napkin and throwing it at him. "Let's go, Johnny. We're celebrating here!"

"Watch it, Jenny," he warns as he swats the napkin away and glares at her jokingly. He grabs another shot glass and pours himself one, knowing it's way easier to give in than fight them. They all raise their glasses.

"To meeting the guy that could actually handle all that is our Lizzy," Jim says exaggeratedly while looking at her.

"Such a douche bag," she mutters to him before they all down their shots.

Jenny makes a face with the offending taste and reaches for her beer. Whiskey wasn't her thing. She only chose it because she knows it's Lizzy's favorite. Johnny is faster than her though and swipes the bottle away, quickly replacing it with a Smirnoff Ice. It's become a running joke at the bar as Lizzy always serves Jenny the disgusting drink that used to be her high school beverage of choice.

"Oh, fuck you dude!" Jenny yells with her change of chaser and Jim and Lizzy start laughing. "Thought I was gonna avoid this crap tonight since Liz isn't behind the bar!"

"Hey, don't make fun of me and I won't fuck with you," Johnny explains while grinning.

"Awesome!" Lizzy laughs hardily as she high-fives Johnny for his quick thinking.

Dean sighs heavily at the easy and fun scene and looks over at his girl. "I gotta get outta here soon," he tells her quietly, trying his best to appear serious.

"Why?" Lizzy asks with sudden concern. "What's wrong?"

"I'm having real, honest-to-God fun. I can't let myself get too used to this." He takes a big sip of beer and Lizzy smiles lightly, glad she could give him this glimpse into how the rest of the world lives. She kisses his cheek and begins explaining to him the origins of the Smirnoff Ice and Jenny.

They spend the night drinking heavily, laughing with friends, and just plain being happy, regular people. No one knew who they really were, no monsters showed up to attack them, and they never used a single fake name the whole time. She was Lizzy Noonan. He was Dean Winchester. It was simple and exactly what Dean needed.

The night was so fun that neither noticed when their phones rang several times.

* * *

"Hey, Lizzy. It's me again," Sam says into his cell phone, leaving the seventh message of the night for her. "I really need to talk to you. Castiel was on to something. There are omens in the Northeast all over the place, big ones. Whatever's there isn't fucking around. You better be ready, shore leave or not. Someone  _please_ call me back!"

Sam ends the call and tosses his phone onto the cot with pure frustration. He's left them each several messages but they continually fail to call back. What the fuck is going on? The rock sitting in Sam's stomach gets heavier and heavier as the time ticks on. He didn't go into detail in the first few, but the last message he leaves for each of them is much more foreboding and he hopes it will get them to call him back.

"Still nothin', huh?" Bobby asks, handing Sam a mug of coffee as he walks into the study.

"No," Sam spits back, getting more and more angry with Dean and Lizzy as the night goes on. It's nearly one in the morning now and no matter how many times he tries neither will answer their phones. "They have to come up for air soon, don't they?" Sam asks, assuming he knows what they've been up to.

"I think you're forgettin' about the time they spent a whole day permanently defilin' one of my rooms upstairs," Bobby reminds him as he takes a seat behind his desk. "That room will never be the same again."

"Yeah, what's that about anyways?" Sam asks, confused as to how anyone could possibly be that constantly motivated by sex. Sure, he's a guy and sex is on his mind a lot, but Dean and Lizzy were beyond the norm. Whenever they were within reach of the other, sex consumed them.

"Ha, have you ever met yer own brother?" Bobby jests. "I'm just glad that for once he's with the same girl every time."

"That's true. And she  _is_ just as bad as him," Sam admits. "Hey, what do you think are the chances that Dean was actually able to find a chick to keep up with him?" Bobby laughs at the statement but Sam keeps a serious face. He wonders this out loud for the first time but he's had the thought several times before. It all seemed too coincidental; they like the same music, have the same penchant for food, booze, and sex, have the same profession, lost their parents the same way, hell they even share an adopted father. It's all too much and every time something seemed like a coincidence in their experiences, it never was. Ever since Castiel let them know that Lizzy is someone important, much like Dean is, the thought has nagged Sam constantly.

"Not great," Bobby laughs out. "Said it before, there's a reason I kept those two apart for as long as I did. Though now it seems I was wrong to do so after all."

"Are you sure about that?" Sam questions.

"Yeah," Bobby returns. "I mean, that kid has been a whole hell of a lot easier to deal with since meetin' her. She makes him a happier person and a happier Dean is an easier to handle Dean. We should be kissin' her damn feet!"

"Can't argue there," Sam brushes off. "But have you ever thought that maybe them meeting each other is bigger than just chance?" Sam waits as Bobby mulls over what he says.

"Where you going with this, Sam?" Bobby asks, eyes narrowed curiously.

"Look, Castiel said that Lizzy was 'of import', right?" Sam starts to explain while using his best serious angel impression. "He also said that heaven has a plan for Dean, a job or whatever. You've never once thought that maybe they met because they were supposed to? Like it was…"

"Meant to happen. Huh," Bobby catches on and takes a moment to contemplate Sam's theory. "Quite the concept you've come up with there."

"Scares the shit outta me to think that anyone's lives would be that planned out, but the more I think about it the more it makes sense. I mean, in many aspects, Lizzy's just Dean with a pair of tits. And anyway in which she's different, she's just better than him. Makes her the perfect fit."

Bobby sits back in this chair and takes a sip of his coffee. Sam is a brilliant kid, but sometimes he wished he wasn't so. Bringing up questions like this always put a damper on their lives. And the worst part is that Sam is almost always right.

"Well fuck," Bobby finally says. "I hate to say it, but you might be right, son. Can't come up with a reason for it not to be a possibility."

"Yeah, I know," Sam says, letting Bobby know he's had the same issue. "Can you imagine if this kinda thing was predetermined? That could mean that the people we meet, what we do, where we go…."

"Alright, I get it," Bobby tells him, trying to cut him off early. The idea horrifies him. Does that mean he was meant to meet his own wife and kill her? How terribly unfair and cruel. Life  _can't_  be that preset, Bobby thinks. It just can't be. "Sam, I don't think we should tell them this little theory of yours. I don't think that would be a good idea. It'll fuck with their minds way too much."

"Especially when it's only a theory… for now at least," Sam adds.

"Right," Bobby confirms as a heavy silence falls between them. It's a lot to process.

"I'm trying Dean's cell again," Sam breaks in finally, his impatience getting the better of him. He grabs his phone off of the cot and dials for what feels like the millionth time.

* * *

 


	6. Gaydar and Demon Blood

* * *

"Oh fuck that, dude," Lizzy nearly shouts as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. "Johnny is as straight as a fucking arrow!" She stumbles a little over the step up through the doorway as she tries to avoid breaking the salt line laid there and laughs. "You're out of your mind."

"L, I'm telling you, that dude loves the cock," Dean rebuts while shutting the door behind him as Lizzy takes off her leather jacket and hangs it on one of the hooks on the wall, missing it the first time in her inebriated state. "You saw the way he was staring at me."

"Holy shit, could you love yourself anymore?"

"Not more than Johnny does," Dean laughs. "He was looking at me like he was starving and I was a fucking cheeseburger."

"And I've worked with him for, like, three months now," Lizzy explains while holding a hand out to take Dean's jacket and hang it up with hers. "I think I would have gotten a vibe from him at this point."

"Oh, right," Dean starts. "Like you're the leading authority on knowing if someone is gay?"

"Absolutely! My gaydar is spot fucking on!" Lizzy proclaims when she reaches the top of the stairs and turns to look down at him still in the foyer, pointing her index finger his way. "Like for example, I knew you were a huge homo from the second we met."

"Really!" Dean smiles brightly at her accusation. He sprints up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and quickly follows her down the hall to the living room.

"Oh yeah!" she says back while plopping onto her oversized couch. "You were acting like so much of a tough guy that I knew you were totally overcompensating. And anyone who uses product to style their hair before hunting down a monster is clearly gay."

"Huh," Dean smirks as he drops down onto the couch next to her. He pops his feet up onto the coffee table and drapes an arm around Lizzy's shoulders, pulling her into a playful headlock as he does. "So you just get off on banging gay guys with awesome hair then?"

"Oh no, you're straight now," Lizzy informs him seriously as she pries herself free from his hold. She sits right up next to him with her legs tucked underneath her. "I'm so damn good in the sack that I turned you right around."

"That must be it, then," Dean responds sarcastically while leaning forward and kissing her. Lizzy, turning toward him and deepening their kiss, groans with disappointment when she hears her cell phone beep.

"Shit," she says, breaking them apart. "I have a message."

Dean, knowing it could be important as a message on any hunter's phone has the potential to be urgent, lets her back off and check. He drops his head backwards onto the top of the couch and closes his eyes, yawning as his exhaustion takes hold through the haze of liquor. Lizzy reaches into her back pocket, retrieves her phone, and takes a listen.

"Jesus," she says after a few minutes. "I have seven messages, all from Sam."

"That's not good," Dean says, perking up when he hears this. He looks to her with a concerned expression. "What did he say?"

"Pretty much that we need to be careful because of what Castiel said and that there's a storm coming," Lizzy says while listening to the fourth message of almost identical information. "Keeps saying the same thing. Watch our asses and be ready for the snow storm. Over kill there, Sam."

"Why's he so worried?" Dean asks with another yawn.

"I don't know," she responds. "But it sounds like he's just that; he's worried about us." She deletes the next three unheard messages, assuming they are all the same. "I'll call him tomorrow on my way to training, tell him to relax and that we've got this."

"Five bucks says Castiel flew straight to him after we National Geographic-ed his ass right outta here."

Lizzy huffs a small laugh and drops a hand on his chest. "Ten bucks says he freaked Sam out wicked bad with his warning and that's why he's calling so much."

"I won't be taking that bet…. All the shit still in place around the apartment?" Dean asks, making sure they are well protected before ending their night.

"Salt on every door and window. Devil's trap still painted on the floor in front of the entrance. Holy water and shotguns under the bed. Sigils hidden around the place everywhere," she tells him while reaching into his pocket. "We're all set, Hot Shot. You can relax."

Dean smiles when he feels her hand in his pants pocket but his face drops when she pulls out his phone and hands it over. She clearly wants him to check his phone too. He takes it from her and checks the screen, seeing that he has several unheard voicemails of his own, all from Sam. "God damn."

"Same thing I assume?"

"Yup," Dean tells her while tossing the phone back onto the coffee table with a third yawn. "I'll deal with it tomorrow." He'll avoid his brother for as long as he can. He loves Sam, he always will, but that doesn't mean the kid always makes the right decisions. And it doesn't mean Dean has to like it.

"You look done for," Lizzy says while standing up and offering her hand to him. "Let's just get you to bed."

"Yes please," he smiles while taking her hand and standing up. She pulls him into the bedroom and immediately begins undressing him. "I can do that, you know?" Dean informs her, looking down at her as she lets his jeans drop to the floor.

"Oh, I know," Lizzy says with a smile as she lifts his shirt over his head and slides her hands along his now bare skin. "But it's way more fun for me this way."

"Horseshit. I think you just like taking care of me," Dean says sleepily, circling his arms around her shoulders as she works. She cranes her neck up to him and balances on her tiptoes, kissing him quickly.

"Nah, that's just my cover. I'm only using you for your body," she laughs as she gives him a quick swat on the ass. "And you look like you could pass out on your feet right now. I'm gonna go grab some water. I expect you to be sound asleep by the time I get back." She wags her finger at him and leaves the room.

Dean flops onto her bed, crawling under the covers and pressing his face into one of the pillows. He inhales the smell of cherries and vanilla and smiles to himself, feeling safe and warm. She's so good to him that he once again wonders what he did to deserve her. In a life that never ceased to hurt and disappoint him, he found a huge silver lining. It still felt out of place, like it was never supposed to be this way, but he certainly wasn't about to complain.

He begins dozing off when he feels the dip in the mattress next to him. Without looking, he reaches out and hooks an arm around her waist, pulling her into him tightly with her back against him and sighing.

"Hey," Lizzy calls quietly out while turning her head a little toward him.

"Mm?" Dean sleepily asks.

"I love you," she whispers to him, settling into his embrace and melting with having him close.

"You too," Dean says sleepily in return. "So much."

And with that, he was dead to world.

* * *

"I'm not sure she can handle the weather you're about to head into, Sam," Bobby warns as they look over the old Volvo station wagon he had sitting around his yard. He knew it worked and that it wouldn't die on Sam's trip, but that didn't mean it could get through the treacherous weather that lie ahead by any means.

"It'll have to," Sam says with determination as he drops a weapon-packed duffel into the spacious trunk. He decided that he was going to make the drive out when he still didn't hear from Lizzy or Dean at all. It's now four in the morning and he can't stop the dread in his chest from growing. He just knows something is wrong and shaking that feeling has been impossible. He needs to leave and make sure they're ok.

"Sam, you better be careful, son," Bobby tells him while dropping a hand on his shoulder. "And I'm not just talkin' about demons here. That storm is gonna be bad."

"I know it is," Sam responds, closing the trunk and walking around to get into the driver's seat. "But I can't sit here and not know. I need to go."

Bobby just nods, knowing that trying to stop a Winchester once he's determined is an impossible feat, especially when it was one brother being concerned for the other.

"If you hear from them, you'll call right away?" Sam asks.

"Of course," Bobby responds. "You'll be the first to know. You sure got everythin' you need?"

"Yeah," Sam says, knowing that in reality there is one more weapon for him to pick up.

"Alright," Bobby returns in a worried and saddened tone. "Call when you get there so I don't have a stroke waitin' to hear if you made it or not, huh?"

"I will," Sam answers as he gets into the car. Of course he'll call. He knows for certain how frustrating not hearing from someone is and right now he'd never do that to another person. He waves quickly out the driver's side window as he begins to drive off and Bobby waves back while standing in the driveway and watching Sam leave. His own anxiety begins to build at the sight. He hopes Sam knows what he is doing.

Once on the road and away from Bobby's sights, Sam pulls out his cell phone and dials yet another familiar number. The line only rings once before it's answered.

"Sam?" he hears her voice on the other end.

"Ruby," he simply responds. "Do you know what's going on where Lizzy lives?"

"Not exactly, but I know whatever it is, it's pretty big," she tells him. "There's definitely a demon out there causing some massive trouble. It's no small fry either with what it's cooking up, I can promise you that."

"I'm headed that way now," Sam answers. "Dean and Lizzy are there and not answering their phones."

"Great," Ruby sarcastically says.

"I have to check on them," Sam tells her. "Make sure everything's ok."

"You people are always putting yourselves in the line of fire for each other, you know that? Someone really needs to put leashes on all of you."

"Not funny," Sam says flatly though he knows she's somewhat right. They run head first into terrible and dangerous situations constantly in order to save the other.

"Whatever. I think you've got a screw loose if you're gonna head into that weather."

"What choice do I have here?" Sam asks loudly. "I can't just sit on my ass when they could be in serious trouble." Sam sighs loudly, frustration building even more. "You should come with me."

"No," Ruby answers simply.

"What?" Sam questions quickly, unsure of why she won't help. "Why not?"

"Because, this isn't my problem, Sam. Not sure if you noticed, but you've gotten me into a lot of shit before and I'm sure you'll do it again so for now I'm done volunteering for the rescue team."

"Then you have to meet up with me," Sam tells her. "I need more."

"I have to, huh?" Now it's Ruby's turn to sigh loudly.

"You know I need your help here," Sam admits begrudgingly and waits while she quietly mulls over his request.

"Fine," Ruby says. "But not yet. If you want to be strong enough to handle the unknown, I'm holding you off until you get there. Not gonna let you re-up and have the potency wear off through the drive. You'll be stronger when you need to be if you wait."

"Works for me," Sam says. "I'll call when I get close." He hangs up and pulls into a gas station to fuel up the car with gas and himself with coffee. It's going to be a hard twenty-four hours or more of straight driving if he's going to get there as soon as he can.

* * *

 


	7. Team America

* * *

"Mmm," Dean hums as he feels her lips land on the back of his neck while he's still lying face down in bed. What a way to wake up.

"Good morning," she says quietly as she takes a seat Indian-style next to on the mattress. Dean rolls over and looks up at her smiling face.

"Hi," he says before blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Eleven-thirty," Lizzy says while running her hand lovingly through his sleep-spiked hair. She always though he looked down right adorable while still half asleep. "How's it feel to not be tired for once?"

"Awesome," he smiles. "How was the training?"

"Awesome," she echoes. "I think I'm starting to intimidate Mark a little though. I pinned him so good today, thought his eyes were gonna pop out of his head with surprise."

"Little ol' you?" Dean jests. He's more than well aware that when she lets her deep seated anger out physically one of two things are going to happen; either someone is getting the ass whooping of a lifetime or someone is getting the fucking of a lifetime. He personally prefers the latter.

"Oh please," she feigns daintiness with a southern bell accent. "I'm far too dignified for all that mess. A proper lady such as myself belongs at home, cooking, cleaning, and making her man happy."

Dean scrunches his face with the display. Gross.

"Aren't you glad I'm nothing like that?" she raises one eyebrow with a smirk.

"So glad," he admits while pulling her arms until she's lying on top of him. She's goofy when she's just being herself and not on a hunt. He loves that. She figured out how to keep her two lives separate. "What's the plan for today?" Dean asks while wrapping his arms around her. "Beside prepare for the storm of the century and all."

"Hang out?" Lizzy says. "Watch a movie or seven, drink some beers, maybe smoke a little?" She lifts her head, eyes hopeful, and waits for what she hopes is a positive answer.

"Yeah?" Dean asks, having learned long ago that she was a part time pothead. He was cool with it, partaking most of the time. He had to admit that it's one highly effective way for an overworked hunter to actually relax.

"If you'd be down," she adds. "Got some great stuff from a regular at my bar. I figured we could seriously unwind while the snow fell. Get under some blankets." She playfully drops her voice. "See what happens?" She wiggles her right eyebrow and makes a kissy face, earning her a laugh.

"What about what Castiel said?" Dean asks, knowing he's killing her plans. "You think maybe we should stay sharp just in case?" He's worried for sure and until Castiel comes back, they need to be on their toes.

"Party pooper," she smirks before kissing him quickly, knowing he's right. "Alright, no weed."

"Plus, I kinda wanted to, ah, get some things out today. Get your opinion on stuff," Dean cautiously proceeds, not knowing how to ask for her help still.

"You mean… you want to… talk?" she jokingly gives him a frightful look while pretending to bite her nails. "Dun dun dun!"

"Shut up," Dean tells her in an equally mocking voice.

"Lemme guess," Lizzy narrows her eyes at him, getting serious once more. "This has something to do with the awkward vibe I'm getting between you and Sam?"

Dean just gives her a questioning look, surprised that she already knew something was wrong.

"Sam's called me a several times over the past few weeks," Lizzy begins explaining after seeing his wonder. "He seemed off, like he was hiding something or like he wanted to talk to me about something but kept chickening out. And the fact that you're never around when he calls me anymore is tell-tale enough."

"Sounds about right," Dean responds.

"Crap, this is gonna suck isn't it?" Lizzy asks when she begins putting everything together. "He won't talk to me and you  _want_  to have a serious conversation? So not good." She pulls off one of her socks and drops it onto his face with a laugh.

"Nasty," Dean says with a disgusted face as he tosses it off the bed. "You're fucking weird, you know that?"

"That's kinda the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" She leers at him with her comment.

"How am  _I_  weird!?" Dean wonders loudly.

"Unhealthy obsession with pie, the way you literally talk to your car, your serious kink for big titted Asian chicks…"

"So far all I hear is you describing the average red-blooded American dude," Dean states simply.

"Touché," she responds before singing loudly, "America!"

"Fuck yeah!" Dean finishes and she laughs. "And sorry in advance. For everything I'm going to drop on you."

"Eh, don't be," she says. "That's what I'm here for." Lizzy rolls her eyes exaggeratedly.

"It's only  _one_  of the reasons you're here for," Dean grins, a hand firmly cupping one of her ass cheeks.

"One of very many," Lizzy says while sitting up again. "Sometimes I wish there was a written guide to dealing with men bearing the last name Winchester. Would make my life a whole hell of a lot easier."

"C'mon! I'm not that bad!"

Lizzy stares at him for a moment with an expression of utter shock. "Oh yeah," Lizzy loudly says with mocking jest as she stands up. "You're a fucking piece of cake!"

"Piece of pie," Dean corrects. "And yes, I am more than aware that my brother and I are a pain in the ass at times…"

Lizzy opens her mouth to interject but Dean cuts her off.

"But, you knew what you were signing up for," he reminds her, sitting up.

"That I did," she agrees as she takes off her sweatshirt and yoga pants, looking to change out of her workout attire. "God, I smell after today. Awesome workout though."

"You know that we appreciate everything you do for us, right?" Dean quickly asks, changing the subject completely and trying to get the question out before he backs away and avoids the emotional conversation he's fully aware he's starting.

Lizzy turns quickly to him, expression blank, and freezes. She was caught completely off guard by what he says.

"What?" Dean questions.

"Just…" Lizzy pauses. "I didn't expect you to say something like that."

"Well, you know, we do… appreciate you. A lot," Dean stutters through. "Me, Sammy, Bobby, we all do."

"Wow," Lizzy whispers, never having heard any of them talk like this before now.

"We don't say that enough, or ever really," Dean says. "But… with everything that's happened… L, I don't want to know where any of us would be without you."

Lizzy smiles as she looks down at the carpet, eyes watering and lump in her throat growing by the second. She loved her men fiercely, but was more than aware of their stunted abilities to speak their feelings. She knew they were grateful, but hearing it was much more moving than she'd ever expected it to be.

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Lizzy all but whispers, choked by her emotions. She looks up as a single tear falls down her cheek. "Feels really nice to hear you say that."

"Shit. Come here," Dean asks of her as he holds out a hand. She takes it and lets him pull her in, holding her as her heart swells. "You know how much we all suck at this crap."

"I do," she tells him. "I know it's hard for you to speak like that. And I know that you guys value me and what I try to do for all of you. But I never anticipated actually hearing it. It's not your style." She laughs lightly at the thought.

"Well, we should let you know," Dean admits. "And I think we're all getting better at dealing with our emotional bullshit since you've been around."

"God, I just want you all to be happy, or at least better," she admits. "I see so much pain and unhappiness and bottled up anger in you guys, I worry about all of you all the time. And I believe that you guys deserve better than what you've been given."

"Well, we love you for that," Dean says as he lifts her chin lightly and kisses her. As usual with the two of them, the simple kiss rapidly turns into something much more, much deeper.

"You know, I  _was_  going to head out and get some food and supplies before the storm hit…" Lizzy says as she pushes him back into a lying position and climbs atop him, straddling his hips. "… but I can go a little later, right?" She snakes her hands down his chest, taking the time to enjoy the feeling of his cut body, and runs her fingers under the waistband of his boxer-briefs.

Dean smiles up at her. "Absolutely," he responds as he prepares to dive head first into another highly effective way for an overworked hunter to actually relax.

* * *

Seven hours of straight driving and Sam is still going strong, the rumble of the engine if the piece of shit car from Bobby's yard combined with the local rock station doing what it can to calm him. His need to get to Lizzy's apartment and find out what's going on, to make sure that they're both safe, has kept him wide awake so far. The problem with driving all alone, however, is that his brain wasn't given anything to distract it. It's had the perfect opportunity to ramble and his imagination has completely taken over.

His mind tackles his biggest fear over and over. What if they aren't answering because it's too late? Castiel told him how distracted they both were and Sam is well aware that Dean's biggest weakness has always been the people in his life that matter to him the most. He knows Dean can't be on his A-game right now, especially with the distraction that Lizzy is constantly ready to provide. What if a demon took the opportunity and ran with it? What if they were hurt or worse, what if they're already dead?

No, Sam determinedly thinks while shaking his head, trying to lose the thought once and for all. Castiel would never leave them on their own and open to attack if the threat was that big. That angel has a very clearly invested interest in Dean and wouldn't risk his life like that. But then again, the angel did say that he had other problems of his own elsewhere. Maybe he himself was distracted. That's why Castiel must have gotten Sam on this in the first place. Damn it, he scolds himself mentally. He should have left the second Castiel showed up and told him there was something happening. He should have gotten into this total piece of shit car the minute they didn't answer his first few calls to them. Fucking hindsight. It was always 20/20 and it always showed up way too late.

His phone rings and he jumps, the sudden sound pulling him abruptly out of his worst-case-scenario thoughts, and he scrambles to get it out of his pocket. Checking the screen and hoping with all he has that it's Dean or Lizzy calling and sighs before turning down the volume and answering.

"Hey Bobby," Sam says with disappointment.

"Good to hear from you too," Bobby sarcastically responds.

"No, Bobby, I just thought it was…"

"Yeah, I know," Bobby says, not actually offended by Sam's low tone. "So I've been doin' some research."

"Ok," Sam says, waiting for the information he's sure he's about to get.

"And I might know what we're up against here," Bobby says. "I found some information on a couple demons that have the ability to royally screw with the weather enough to cause an early season blizzard. One of 'em is the ale."

"Not too familiar," Sam responds, never having heard the name before.

"That's 'cause they're usually found in Middle Eastern and European countries. They tend to use their powers over the weather to mainly destroy crops and starve people ta' death. Not exactly what I think is goin' on here. The motive doesn't fit none too well."

"So it's not the ale," Sam says. "What's the other option?"

"Goes by many names, the most common one bein' Laraje."

"Never heard of him," Sam comments.

"Her."

"What?"

"You never heard of  _her_ ," Bobby informs Sam. "It's a she. Laraje isn't very high up on the demon food chain, but she does have some very interestin' powers, one of which is controllin' the winds and climate. From what I've read, she can control the weather but can't exactly cook up a storm of this magnitude, at least not without a little help."

"What kinda help are we talking about?" Sam cautiously questions.

"Any kind. Could be another demon, could be some powerful spells, or could be some blessed or occult items she's usin'."

"And you're sure it's her?"

"Not a hundred percent but all I'm sayin' is there's a good chance," Bobby says. "As of right now I can't find anythin' else that would be able to cook up a friggin' blizzard."

"Shit," Sam laments, knowing that if a demon has a known name, it's powerful enough to be a pain in his ass.

"I know," Bobby responds, hoping he was wrong, though after years of doing the job he knows when he's right and when he's wrong. This time, he feels right.

"Anything else you can tell me about her?" Sam asks.

"She's pretty nasty," Bobby begins. "She loves war and creating conflict between people."

"Great," Sam caustically remarks.

"But she also loves love just as much as war, though I'm not sure how she uses that yet. Need to do a little more diggin' and I'll let you know what I find."

"Alright, thanks for the update Bobby," Sam says with a small smile.

"I'll call when I know more," Bobby says. "And Sam, don't drive yourself to death. Take a break if you have to. Dean and Lizzy aren't gonna get themselves killed." He hopes.

"Yeah," Sam replies before hanging up, not believing what he's told. After everything Bobby just dropped in his lap, Sam isn't taking a break for anything besides more gas and coffee. If this demon bitch is in Lizzy's town, he  _really_  needs to get there.

* * *

 


	8. Meatsuit Mambo

* * *

"People are fucking crazy!" Lizzy laments into her phone that's wedged between her ear and shoulder as she leaves the grocery store, arms loaded with bags. "I really regret being lazy this week and not going food shopping before now. The place was mobbed!"

"Aren't you people supposed to be used to this kinda crap around here?" Dean asks as he raises his beer to his lips, taking a sip while somewhat watching the cheaply made zombie movie he found on TV.

"You'd think so," Lizzy responds while dropping the bags into the trunk of her car. "But the first storm always makes people overreact. It's like the summer erases all their winter weather knowledge."

"That's ridiculous… oh shit!" Dean shouts as the gruesome display of a decapitation on the screen.

"What?" Lizzy asks.

"This movie is gross," Dean tells her with a laugh. "So awesome."

"What are you watching?"

"Some old ass zombie flick, real low budget."

"Which makes it kinda better?"

"Exactly," Dean laughs again, suddenly missing her and wishing she was there to watch it with him. "You coming back yet?"

"One last stop," Lizzy says while walking toward the alley on the side of the grocery store, aiming for a short cut to make her trip go by that much quicker. "Beer run and I'm done."

"Good," Dean says to her with a smile. "Get your ass back here quick."

"Ok," she laughs. "And I'm gonna call Sam back right now. I forgot to on my way to classes this morning. Too busy trying not to die from a hangover."

"Sounds good to me," Dean responds, happy to let her do the honors. This was his time away from Sam and he'd much rather she call him.

"See you in a few," she says before ending the call and dialing Sam's number while walking into the alley. She hears the line ring once before her cellphone is smacked out of her hand. The phone clatters onto the pavement, skidding a few feet before coming to a stop, and she turns quickly.

"What the fuck!" Lizzy shouts to the woman she finds standing too close for comfort behind her. She was average height with long, black hair and heavy black eye make up on. She's smiling menacingly as Lizzy reaches into the back of her pants and pulls out her gun. Her hunter's instincts kick in immediately with the look in the mysterious woman's eyes. Lizzy knows this thing is off and this  _thing_  is not human. Stepping back, she aims quickly.

"Who are you!" she shouts.

"Lizzy Noonan," the woman speaks with an eerie smile. "So good to finally meet you properly."

Lizzy keeps quiet, getting the unsettling feeling that bullets won't be helping her much in this situation.

"You know, I've been looking for you for so long," she tells Lizzy as she steps closer.

"Stop!" Lizzy warns, trying to hold her ground and sound intimidating.

"You've been a difficult one to track down," the woman says while looking at Lizzy's neck, spying the Hand of the Etruscan's and grinning evilly. "And now I know why."

"Back off, bitch!" Lizzy shouts as she takes a few steps backwards towards the other end of the alley. The woman simply laughs and with the swipe of her hand through the cool fall air Lizzy is flung into the hard, cold brick wall of the grocery store, her grip on her gun releasing on impact. She's pinned against the wall by the unseen forces of what she now knows is a demon. Groaning with the pain shooting through her body, she is able to regain her focus once the demon is standing just inches from her, blackened eyes boring into her.

"What's it been, six years, almost seven?" the demon questions as she reaches out and lightly floats her hands down Lizzy's collarbone before resting atop the pendent. "So glad I was able to get my ass back out of the pit to come find you again. I should really get around to thanking your good friends Sam and Dean for that, and for leading me right to you! Heard you'd been buddy-buddy with them as of late so I've been following them. You know, without those two bumbling idiots I'd still be down under thanks to that moron you consider a father and his dumbass hunting buddy."

Lizzy stares wide eyed at the demon, knowing exactly who it was. Her blood runs cold with the encompassing fear and sheer malice she harbors for it.

"I'll assume by the look on your face that remember me," the demon smiles wider.

"Fuck you," Lizzy grits out in a fiery tone. "You killed my parents. You killed  _Louie's_  parents!" She begins struggling to get free and attack with the anger that's exploding from within, but she's greeted with blinding pain instead when the demon uses its powers to crush her from the inside out.

"Stop trying so hard," the demon says, closely watching the wrinkled expression on Lizzy's face and listening intently to the painful noises she makes. The demon decides to stop torturing her after a moment and Lizzy takes a few deep breaths in relief.

"So you want the pendent, then fucking take it. It's all yours, bitch," Lizzy spits out.

"That's what I used to want," the demon explains. "But my days of scrounging for power through items and spells are over. And when I found out what you've become, who you are to the world now, oh sweetheart," she places her hand lightly onto Lizzy cheek and strokes it with her thumb. "I have so much more that I want from you now."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Lizzy asks, hoping the demon is still in a sharing mood.

She isn't and instead, the demon reaches into her boot to retrieve a knife. "Why don't I just show you?" She grabs Lizzy's wrist and slashes her skin, breaking her anti-possession tattoo and causing blood to gush quickly from the deep wound. Lizzy's face goes pale once she realizes what is about to happen.

"No! No! Don't!" Lizzy shouts but it's too late. The demon opens her mouth wide and Lizzy can only watch in horror as the black smoke flies out of its mouth and into her own, quickly running down her throat and immediately taking over. She feels her control being lost ounce by ounce as the demon steals her body from her. Before she knows it all that she has left is a little corner of her own mind where she's fully conscious of what's happening but is completely defenseless against stopping it.

"Perfect," the demon sighs through Lizzy's voice as she stretches her new limbs. "Now it's time to have some fun. What do you say we go visit that boyfriend of yours, huh roomie?"

Lizzy screams but it's completely unheard. She feels her body step over the now dead former meatsuit at her feet and walk towards the Mustang. She' trapped and she can only pray that Dean will figure it out quickly. Otherwise, they're in some serious trouble.

* * *

Sam reaches for the volume knob, turning the music completely down before reaching for his ringing phone. He sighs loudly with sheer alleviation when he reads Lizzy's name on the screen. Pushing send, he brings the phone to his ear.

"About fucking time, Lizzy!" Sam shouts at her with half anger and half relief. "What the fuck is wrong with you two! Answer your God damn phones!" He waits for an answer but doesn't get one. "Lizzy! Hello?"

_"Who are you!"_

He hears Lizzy shout from a distance away from the phone. His heart skips a beat at the sound of alarm in her voice.

_"Lizzy Noonan. So good to finally meet you. You know, I've been looking for you for so long."_

Who is that? Sam hits the roof with panic at the unfamiliar woman's voice.

"Lizzy!" he shouts into the phone, not sure what he hopes to accomplish by doing so. Clearly she's separated from her phone, but Sam can't stay quiet through his helplessness. "Lizzy! Damn it!" He hears the sound of a body impacting with something hard and Lizzy groan with pain.

 _"So glad I was able to get my ass back out of the pit to come find you again. You know I should really get around to thanking your buddies Sam and Dean for that, and for leading me right to you! Heard you'd been buddy-buddy with them as of late_   _so I've been following them. You know, without those two bumbling idiots I'd still be down under thanks to that moron you consider a father and his dumbass hunting buddy."_

"Shit. Shit!" Sam lets out as his foot hits the accelerator. He's still at least eight hours away not counting the storm but he doesn't care. Instinct takes over. "Oh, shit. Shit." He's muttering to himself out of anxiety.

_"You killed my fucking parents. You killed Louie's parents! Ah!"_

Lizzy is shouting out in utter pain and Sam suddenly feels the urge to vomit from the horrid sound. He quickly puts the information together. It's the demon from Lizzy and Lou's past, the one that killed both their parents and brought them into hunting. It's tracked her down and now it's hurting her and Sam's stuck in a crappy, sputtering car, uselessly listening.

_"Stop trying so hard."_

With that, Lizzy finally stops screaming.

 _"So you want the pendent, then fucking take it. It's all yours, bitch,"_ he hears Lizzy say.

_"That's what I used to want. But my days of scrounging for power through items and spells are over. And when I found out what you've become, who you are to the world now, oh sweetheart, I have so much more that I want from you now."_

"What the fuck does that mean?" Sam asks himself aloud with the comment.

_"What the fuck does that mean?"_

Lizzy echo his exact sentiment and he hopes with everything in him for an answer.

_"Oh, you'll see."_

_"No! No! Don't!"_

Sam hears Lizzy shout and his face drops. He knows she'd never lose her composure unless it was dyer. The line goes suddenly silent after hearing a sickening thud, the kind of sound that Sam's heard way too many times before. It was a body hitting the ground.

"Lizzy!" Sam shouts as loudly as he can. "Lizzy! Fucking answer me!"

_"Perfect. Now it's time to have some fun. What do you say we go visit that boyfriend of yours, huh roomie?"_

"No," Sam shakes his head as he hears footsteps fading away on the other end. "No. No. No." It was Lizzy's voice, but he knows in his heart it wasn't Lizzy. Sam pulls the car over and opens the side door as quickly as he can, taking in gulps of air as he suddenly feels stifled in the small car.

"Oh fuck," he laments as the dread hits him hard. Lizzy's possessed. He couldn't get there in time, he couldn't warn them. Why the fuck didn't they answer their phones! Why didn't he leave hours ago! He's still so far away! He should never have let Dean leave on his own!

"Castiel!" Sam shouts desperately with a flash of coherent intelligence into the air as he sits sideways out the driver's side doorway. "Castiel! Get down here! Lizzy's in trouble, Dean too! Please, Castiel!"

Nothing. He waits a few seconds more. "Damn it! Get your feathery ass down here! We need you! You were right, they should have listened to you! Please, you have to help!"

Sam is surrounded by silence and the realization that he's on his own quickly settles in. He holds his head in his hands for a quick moment to let the shock of everything wear down. Still breathing hard, Sam swings his legs back into the car and pulls out onto the road again, ready to break every traffic law known to man. He grabs his phone again and dials Dean's number, praying that this attempt will end differently.

* * *

 


	9. How to Fool a Winchester

* * *

Stopping once in the screened-in porch as the first flurries begin to fall, the demon knows what lies on the other side of the front door; a salt line and a devils trap covered by a very tacky area rug. It's one advantage of having the ability to possess others; their memories and knowledge becomes your own.

"It's just too easy," she remarks quietly with confidence as she kneels on the floor, bringing her face level with the crack underneath the door. "Potentiae mater natura factus mea, frigidus aer per me cum vires incognita." She blows and the air exiting her lips is frigid cold, like a biting north wind. It scatters the salt line on the other side with ease. She then stands to unlock the door with Lizzy's key.

Halting again before stepping through the doorway, she looks quickly up the stairs to make sure Dean isn't around. She then leans over and presses one finger to the wooden floor just outside the painted line, using her impressive strength to crack the boards, the deep crevasses lighting up with the flashing energy she exudes. It breaks the outside circle of the trap on the floor and she quickly covers it back over with the rug again. She smiles to herself with satisfaction before gathering the items she brought in from the car and properly making her presence known.

"Hey," Dean hears Lizzy's voice call to him from the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey to you," he calls back while picking up his empty beer bottle off the coffee table and standing up, walking into the hallway to greet her. "Need help carrying anything up?" he asks as he watches Lizzy climb the stairs, arms hoisting several bags.

"Nah, this is everything," she says while turning around at the top step, pausing while looking him over, eyes hungry, and sighing. "Well… hello there, Dean." She smiles oddly as she re-greets him, her eyes fully taking him in in a way she's never done before.

"Hello… again." Dean gives Lizzy a weird look while taking the bags from her. "No beer?"

"Oh," she says, looking confused. "Must have forgotten."

"Forgotten?" Dean asks with surprise. "Weren't you on the way to the liquor store when you called me?"

"Yes, I was, but I totally got sidetracked."

"By?" Dean quizzes her while beginning to put the groceries away.

"You're brother," she lies, "I called him right after talking to you. We actually talked for a while and when I got off the phone with him I just drove off. Forgot about the beer run."

"So what's the deal with Sam?" Dean questions with his head in the refrigerator. She leans back against the counter and takes in the beautiful view.

"Finest ass this side of the Mississippi," Lizzy's voice slyly comments.

"Don't you know it," Dean smirks back as he stands back up. "What'd he have to say?"

"Same thing he has been," she explains as she eyes him continually. If he'd been paying closer attention, he might have found her leering a bit creepy, different than it usually is. "He was just really worried when we didn't answer his calls. I told him to relax and that we could handle it."

"Good," Dean says, still working his way through putting the food and supplies Lizzy bought away. "Now I don't feel so bad for not picking up when he called a couple minutes ago."

"You shouldn't," she confirms quickly. Dean smiles over to her and notices for the first time the fresh and bright white bandage on her wrist. In a few quick strides he's at her side, her forearm held gently in his hand.

"What happened?" he asks with concern, turning Lizzy's arm to inspect it.

"Stupid metal shopping cart," she says, creating the story on the fly. "The one I was using was broken and I got a nice cut from a sharp edge when I reached into it without looking."

"Want me to look at it?" Dean questions, wanting to do what he can. Even when it's something little, his need to help her never quits.

"No, don't be crazy," she says smiling. "Still had med supplies in my trunk. I dealt with it already. Wasn't even that deep. And it seems you've forgotten that I used to be premed. I can handle a little cut."

"Didn't fuck up that tattoo, did it?" he wonders, worried that she had ruined her most important design, the one that keep her safe from possession.

"No, father. I am just fine," she reassures while wrapping her arms around his neck and distracting Dean from her injury. "I'm gonna take a shower. Then we are gonna sit down and talk like you mentioned earlier." She then pulls him into a kiss.

Dean kisses Lizzy back, but has a moment of hesitation. She felt… different. Not by much, just slightly off somehow, hollow. When she pulls back and looks up to him with her usual toothy grin, he lets the momentary thought fade away.

"Meet me on the couch in a few?" he asks of her.

"It's a date," she winks before leaving the room, beaming with pride over how easily she went undetected by the great Dean Winchester. This guy might be more of a chump than she'd expected. As Dean finishes putting the last of the groceries away and popping new batteries into the flashlights and radio Lizzy took out of storage, she quietly walks to the living room to grab his phone off the coffee table. Once she has it, she quickly heads into the bathroom, turns on the shower and then proceeds to toss the phone into the back tank of the toilet. No more chances for Sam to interrupt them. She wants Dean all to herself.

The demon takes Lizzy's clothes off and pauses to admire her newly acquired body in the mirror. "Mm, not too bad. Strong, good curves, nice ass, and a pretty face too. A few too many scars if you ask me but I like the tattoos." She runs her right fingers down her left arm, admiring the artwork. "I might have to take this one out for a test drive before having that talk."

* * *

"Bobby!" Sam shouts into the phone, his anxiety still yet to subside enough. "It got her!"

"What?" Bobby asks with total confusion, pushing aside the book on his desk, already knowing his full attention needed to be on the panicked man on the other end of the line.

"I'm too late!" Sam says, his voice raised and he's speeding through his words even faster than he's driving. "Still hours away. Dean won't answer. Can't warn him."

"Jesus kid, slow down," Bobby tells him with alarm. Sam, the usually cool, calm, and collected hunter only gets this way when things are really, really,  _really_  bad. "What the hell is goin' on?"

"I got a call from Lizzy."

"Finally!" Bobby lets out.

"No, it was bad," Sam tries to explain. "She dropped her phone and was attacked before we could talk. I heard everything. It's the demon that killed her and Lou's parents."

"What!" Bobby shouts into the phone. "Rufus exorcized that piece o' shit!"

"And the gate to hell was opened!" Sam rebuts. "It got out!"

"Balls!" Bobby yells as he slams his fist down onto his desk. "How did it find her? She's been wearin' the necklace!"

"It followed us to her," Sam says. "And now this thing is definitely riding around in Lizzy!"

"Wait, it can't. The tattoo. How would it get around that?"

"No idea but Bobby, I know what I heard!" Sam shouts, desperate for Bobby to not second guess him. "Who gives a shit about  _how_ it happened! I heard her voice, but it wasn't her talking! I know it!"

"Alright," Bobby says, trying to calm himself enough to think clearly. "Alright. Let's think for a quick second here." Bobby drops his head in his free hand and tries to come up with a plan as he hears Sam breathe out loudly several times, doing his best to get his panic to come down. God damn, he's gonna kill those two kids for being this stupid. "I'll jump the next flight out, I can meet you at Lizzy's and we'll figure out what to do."

"How're you gonna do that in a snow storm?" Sam challenges. "All flights are probably cancelled by now."

"Shit," he complains, knowing Sam was right.

"Bobby," Sam says in a terrified tone. "What if he doesn't notice? What if she gets to him? I can't reach him…"

"Sam, knock it off," Bobby says sternly. "Dean ain't that stupid. He knows that girl inside and out. He'd be able to tell."

"God, I hope so," Sam says, calming a little at Bobby's words but not nearly enough.

"You just stay on course, get to them as soon as you can. There's not a damn thing we can do until then. I'll call Rufus and see if he can tell me anything about that demon I don't already know."

"Yeah, ok," Sam tells him, relaxing a little more.

"Focus here, Sam," Bobby warns. "Don't go off the deep end. Your brother needs you. Lizzy too."

"Ok," Sam says, finally coming down to a manageable place with Bobby's words. "Ok. Thanks Bobby."

"Yeah yeah, just keep your eyes on the road."

* * *

 


	10. Breakfast of Champions

* * *

Dean sits patiently on the couch, trying to gather his thoughts. He knows he has to talk to her. Hell, he was the one who brought it up in the first place. But now that the time has come, he's filled with the sudden overwhelming urge to flee, to run away from the situation and never deal with it. All of it seems so heavy and he  _hates_  talking with a passion. It was always so damn difficult and always so fucking painful to do, and right now there's just so much to tell her. But now, after having shoved hell, his own missteps while there, and Sam's new extracurricular activities down deep for so long, he worries about what will happen to him if he  _doesn't_  let it out and get her help.

How will she react to everything? The forty years in hell, ten of which he was on the giving end of the blade, his brother's psychic stuff, Ruby being around again. What could she possibly say or do to make any of it better? No matter what, he knows that for his own sanity this conversation has to happen so he tells himself to suck it up. Every time he has ever asked for her help, she's come through beautifully and he walks away a much better person than before. He has to have faith that she can handle everything he's kept from her so far like she always does.

"You in there?" Lizzy's voice asks from the living room doorway, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looks over to see her wrapped in a towel, hair still dripping from her shower.

"I'm here," Dean grins. "Just trying to sort through everything."

"Sounds like quite the undertaking," she comments. "Um, so I was thinking, before we talk about what's on your mind, maybe we could have a little fun first?" She grins playfully and drops her towel onto the floor, leaving her standing naked in front of him and sure he'll fall for the bait. Looking over her shoulder as she turns, she winks while disappearing into the bedroom and leaves Dean wondering once more if she can in fact read his thoughts. He  _was_  looking to delay the inevitable conversation after all.

"Lucky for you, fun is my middle name," Dean comments with glee as he jumps up from his seat and walks quickly across the hallway, practically skidding to a comical halt once he takes in the sight before him. Lizzy's body is stretched out across her bed on top of her comforter, damp hair splayed out across the pillows and her skin still slightly glistening from her shower in the late afternoon cloudy light seeping through the windows. Dean licks his lips unknowingly while she stretches her arms above her head and slowly moves, the curves of her taut body on full display as she does.

"God damn, you _are_  sex, you know that?" Dean tells her, letting her stay right where she is so he can try to stow the view away in his mind. It was just too good to interrupt just yet.

"Not bad, huh?" she comments with a smile, knowing exactly what she's doing to him. Her eyes drag slowly over him with carnal desire. She rolls over onto her stomach, lying across the mattress with her head at the edge closest to him, sure to display her backside properly by lifting it ever so slightly. Her feet swinging in the air, she lets her eyes lock onto his while biting her index finger seductively. "Undress for me."

 _"_ Not a problem," Dean beams back at her, rushing to get them on an even playing field as soon as possible.

"Slowly," she requests darkly. "I want to enjoy this."

Dean stops for a second, taken off guard by her request. First off, slow was not their normal speed. He and Lizzy were both fully aware of their own impatience and weakness when it came to the other and very rarely did they exercise this kind of restraint. Secondly, she's putting him on the spot and he's hating it. Sure, she'd done a quick little striptease for him once before in which halfway through he gave in and just took her, ending the show early, but turning the tables and putting him in that position was never something he considered… nor did he ever want.

"C'mon, L," Dean complains while standing in place, open belt still in his hands.

"What?" she said in a whiny voice he's never heard from her before. "Don't you want to turn me on, baby?"

"Of course," Dean answers while making funny face at her unlikely, and unattractive to him, tone and stepping toward her, leaning down to lift her chin and kiss her quickly. "But I'm not really the stripping type. Awkward, L. Really awkward." He laughs quietly while standing up straight once more.

"That's alright," she says with slight disappointment as she reaches for his belt buckle. She grasps it firmly and yanks, pulling it from his belt loops in one fast motion. Sitting up on her knees she gives him another closed lip smile. "I know how to still have fun with you in other ways." She folds the leather strip in half and snaps it, making Dean jump with the surprising crack echoing through the room.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Dean questions with a distressed face. They've never once gotten into anything like what she's suggesting right now. They get roughed up enough on a weekly basis so there's no need for that behind closed doors too. He's getting a strange vibe and he finds himself almost scared of her.

"Just trying to keep it interesting," she says, her words dripping with want, as she loops the belt around the back of his neck and pulls him down roughly into her. She kisses him deeply, her tongue exploring his boldly. Her mouth is there, moving like it usually does, but he's left feeling empty. No heat, no connection. Dean backs away disheartened. What is going on with her?

"Hey," he interrupts, slipping out from under his own belt's hold on him. "I'm totally distracted here. Would it be shitty of me to ask that we talk first and do this after?"

She gives him an exaggerated pouting face with the disappointment.

"You listen to what I have to say and let me clear my head. Then afterwards, I'm all yours. Whatever you want."

" _Whatever_  I want?" she asks, mood perking up.

"Yup."

"Promise?" Lizzy's face smirks.

"Absolutely. Now get dressed," Dean says lightly. "I'll be on the couch." He leaves the room and she lies back onto the bed with a sigh of sheer annoyance.

"If at first you don't succeed…" the demon says quietly to itself. She rolls over and hops off the bed, ready to get dressed and trudge through some heart to heart bullshit.

* * *

"Hey there, Bobby," Rufus greets, without enthusiasm as usual, when he answers his phone.

"Rufus, you need to tell me everythin' you can remember about that demon we went after in Massachusetts seven years ago," Bobby spills out quickly.

"What the hell you yappin' about over there?" Rufus complains with utter bewilderment

"The demon!" Bobby tries with total impatience. "The Hand of the Etruscans!"

Rufus' memory kicks in. "You talkin' 'bout the one that got Lizzy and Lou's parents?"

"That's the one!"

"It was a pain in my aging ass, I remember that," Rufus comments, recalling the struggle he went through trying to exorcise it and the beating he received from it. "And fuck you very much for bringing me in on that hunt, by the way."

"It's back, you idjit!" Bobby nearly shouts into the phone with Rufus' unneeded rudeness. "And it's bein' a pain in  _Lizzy's_ ass as we speak! Info, now!"

"Fine. Man," Rufus tries to calm him. "I remember you sayin' it was runnin' around collectin' spells and items to make itself stronger. Kind of a pussy before it beefed up its power."

"What else?" Bobby impatiently asks.

"I walked into the whole situation assumin' we could handle that demon with a hand tied behind each of our backs. Boy, was I fuckin' wrong. It had definitely been eatin' its Wheaties."

"You remember a name?" Bobby asks, desperate to figure out what they were dealing with.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have time to talk with her over a cup o' joe," Rufus quips.

"Her! It was a her!" Bobby's heart skips. He might have been onto something before.

"Yeah, the bitch made it pretty clear when she called me a 'typical weak man' in the middle of tearin' me a new one." Rufus accentuates the phrase 'typical weak man' in a way that lets Bobby know he's telling the truth.

"Oh shit," Bobby complains.

"So it's back, huh?"

"The bitch is definitely back," Bobby tells him. "And it got Lizzy."

"What the hell's that mean!" Rufus shouts into the phone with fear, making Bobby pull it away from his ear with the heightened volume.

"I'm sayin' she's possessed, Rufus," Bobby explains. "She and Dean are about to be snowed in in Massachusetts while this demon is takin' Lizzy for a spin."

"Holy shit, Bobby. This is no good!" Rufus, being the hardened ass that he outwardly was, surprisingly took a shining to the two girls immediately. They took everything that life threw at them in stride and after seeing them grow as hunters, he was impressed and proud, not that he'd ever tell anyone that. He'd never want any harm to come to them and he took the news of Lou's death harder than he let on.

"You don't say," Bobby bites back. "Sam's on his way but he's still several hours out and it'll be slow goin' with the storm and all. Dean and Lizzy aren't answerin' their phones neither."

"I got a buddy out in Rhode Island," Rufus says. "Lemme get you his number. If he's still in the area he might be able to get to them sooner."

"I'll take anything at this point," Bobby says, grabbing a pen and paper.

* * *

 


	11. Love: A Horrific Concept

* * *

"Hello?"

"This Jackson Farrell?" Bobby questions into the phone.

"Depends on who's asking…" the hesitant man answers back.

"I'm a friend of Rufus Turner's and if that's how you answer the phone, clearly so are you," Bobby comments with the reluctant way the man conducts the conversation. "The name's Bobby Singer."

"Bobby Singer… yeah. You're out in the Midwest, right?" Jackson questions.

"I am."

"I've heard of you. You're the guy who helps everyone out, vouches for them with the authorities and whatnot. And you know everything about, well, everything, ha."

"Sounds about right," Bobby quickly answers, hoping to cut through the small talk, even if it was flattering. "Look, Rufus gave me this number. Said you might be able to help me out."

"Depends," Jackson says. "You a friend of his?"

"I guess that's what you'd call it," Bobby answers. "Though I consider our friendship as more of a necessary evil."

"Yeah, you sure know Rufus alright," Jackson laughs. "What can I do you for, Bobby?"

"I got a couple hunters snowed in south of Boston. Can't get ahold of 'em and was lookin' for someone who might be able to get there and check it out for me."

"We're all snowed it, Bobby," Jackson explains. "Nothing can be done about it, but I'm sure they're ok."

"No, they're not," Bobby calmly rebuts, worried he'll spook the hunter. "Something wrong, our kinda wrong."

"I don't know, Bobby," Jackson answers with more hesitation. "This storm is pretty bad and that's at least an hour and a half away sans snow. Not sure I can make it that far."

"It's a lot to ask of a stranger, I know, but these two are family to me. Known Dean my whole life, since he was just a kid. He's practically my son."

"Dean? Winchester?" Jackson perks up. "He one of the hunters you talking about?"

"Yeah, lucky guess," Bobby cautiously responds. "I'm hopin' you ain't someone Dean's pissed off in the past. He tends to do that sometimes."

"No," Jackson laughs. "Not at all. It's quite the opposite, actually. The kid saved my life. I owe him big time."

"Well I'd like to cash in the favor if you don't mind…"

* * *

"So," she says as she walks into the living room, handing Dean a glass of whiskey and sitting down on the other end of the couch with her glass of wine. The demon's thrown on one of Lizzy's favorite vintage t-shirts; the black Van Halen one with the neck cut wide open. She paired it with only some red cotton boyshort panties and after taking a good look, Dean wasn't complaining about her choice in attire. "I'm ready. Let's talk." She turns sideways, plopping her feet heavily into his lap.

Dean pauses for a moment, feeling strange with the abrupt way she attempts to start the heavy conversation. Not like her at all.

"Uh, ok," he says while taking in her appearance further. "What's with the make up?"

"Oh, you like it?" she smiles to him while blinking rapidly. "I went for something new today."

"Yeah, I like it," Dean lies. She has thick, dark black eyeliner on, something she never normally does. He honestly prefers the more natural version of her. "Just not used to it yet I guess. And normally you don't bother with the stuff if you aren't going anywhere."

Lizzy raises her free hand out to the side and shrugs her shoulders as if to say oh well.

"Huh," Dean responds, giving her another once over. Her body language seemed off too. "L, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Lizzy's voice asks, feigning ignorance while taking a sip of her red wine.

"The way you're acting, the makeup, the wine. So not like you. You sure you're feeling ok?"

"Feeling great, Hot Shot," she smiles without parting her lips. "I just felt like putting on makeup. And, believe it or not, I do actually like wine. I've just never drank it in front of you before."

"Huh," Dean wonders out loud again, still slightly uncomfortable but tentatively accepting her explanations. "Alright."

"So what's going on with Sam?" she asks, abruptly changing the subject.

"Where the fuck do I begin?" Dean says while washing a hand down his face.

"You could begin with why it is you two are all kinds of off lately," she says. "And you could tell me what's been making Sam so upset that he'd be nervous to talk to me."

"He's nervous to talk to you?" Dean asks her with obvious interest.

"Oh yeah," she confirms. "Last few times I've talked to him it was rough going. He's hiding something.

"Sounds about right," Dean answers back.

"So what is it already!" she quickly asks.

Dean looks at her suspiciously, her hasty attitude seeming weird. "I'm not sure I should tell you."

"It's ok, honey. I can handle it." Sitting up, she runs a reassuring hand down Dean's arm and he shudders at the unfamiliar touch.

"Not this one," Dean warns.

"Oh please, I've handled everything you've all dumped on me in the past."

"Dumped on you?" Dean questions with her off word choice. He never thought she considered his being honest with her dumping.

"I mean, come on," she continues. "I took Sam's demon blood in stride, just like I did the fact that you two were hanging out with Ruby. Shit, I didn't even blink about the forty years in hell. Trust me, I can handle it."

Dean shakes his head and sighs heavily with the confirmation he was waiting for. "I knew it," he states simply, the disappointment clearly in his voice. He lowers his head and closes his eyes, unprepared for everything that's about to go down.

"Knew what?" she asks as she takes a big sip of wine and watches as he turns to look at her with worry in his expression.

"Christo," Dean says and watches in horror when Lizzy's eyes quickly flash black as she flinches at the name. "I fucking knew it!"

Dean's hand, which had reached into the side of the couch between the arm and cushion, pulls out a silver flask and he swings his arm through the air, holy water flying and splashing across Lizzy's face.

"Ah!" she screams in pain as the water sizzles and steams on her skin.

"I never told L about how long I was in hell!" Dean yells, flask held out in front of him as he stands, "Get the fuck out of her! Now!"

She laughs something evil as she wipes her forearm across her face. "Took you long enough, Dean," she comments as her hand waves across the air, sending him careening through the air and crashing into the wall of the living room.

"Shit!" he shouts as he crumples to the floor, his head already swimming from the impact. He groans as the pain radiates from everywhere.

"Stay there," she warns sternly from her seat on the couch. "If you know what's good for you, that is." She grins at the sight. Dean Winchester, writhing in pain on the floor and undoubtedly panicking at the fact they the woman he loves is no longer herself. She sips her wine and takes in her accomplishment.

"L, if you can hear me, I'm sorry!" Dean struggles out as he turns himself over and lies on his back. "I should have known sooner. I should have listened to Castiel."

"Shut up," she bitingly directs, finally getting up from her seat and placing her glass on the coffee table. "I thought you were going to be a much bigger fight than this." She stands over him, looking down at his pathetic frame. "Imagine my disappointment when the clearly over-hyped Dean Winchester turns out to be a pussy with a case of puppy love."

"Let her go," Dean growls with anger, his left arm reaching stealthfully into his back pocket all the while. "I don't know what you want, but you better let her go."

"Wow, you are just completely proving my point perfectly, aren't you?" Lizzy's voice says with utter let down, her hands poised at her hips. "It's ridiculous that so many of you humans let a little thing like love turn you into wimpy, deplorable messes. I've seen it happen literally millions of times."

"Then clearly you've never had the pleasure, sister," Dean remarks, trying to keep her talking while formulating a plan. He's become quite good at this over the years, having found a good use for that smart ass wit of his.

Her eyes go black again with his quip and she's down to his level unnaturally quickly. She grabs him by the longer hair at the top of his head and yanks him up to her. Dean wises up and says nothing now, just stares into the black eyes that are no longer the warm chestnut color he adores.

"Love is a horrific concept," she grits through Lizzy's clenched jaw. "A bunch of shitting, pissing, gluttonous animals wandering around the Earth blindly until they bump into another animal by chance. Then, in the quest to find meaning and purpose in their insignificant, accidental lives, they convince themselves that they were meant for each other, that they were soul mates. What a crock of shit. Actual soul mates are about as common as geese that crap golden eggs."

"Sounds to me like someone never got asked to prom," Dean pokes and she lets her grip on him go with a shove, Dean's head thudding to the floor loudly and making him groan once more. Moving quickly, he whips his hand from his back pocket, pulling another flask from it and sending a stream of holy water her way once again. The demon recoils with the burn as Dean quickly takes the opportunity to reach for the canister of rock salt behind the couch. He splashes her once more to ensuring she'll be preoccupied enough. Popping the top of the canister, he runs into the hallway and pours a thick salt line across the doorway of the living room.

"Ha!" he shouts, overly proud of his own quick thinking. "You're stuck, you evil son of a bitch! The windows are salted! No way out!"

She turns quickly to face him as the last of the water steams off of her face. "Like this is enough to hold me," she scoffs at the thought. "I already got in here, didn't I? A little salt can't hold me back, you unbelievable imbecile."

"It'll hold you long enough," Dean tells her. "Hang on in there, L! Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…"

"You little shit," the demon loudly complains as she dives onto her hands and knees at the doorway, lowering her head to the floor just before the salt line.

"Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…"

She coughs a few times with the words, feeling her control being broken, but steadies herself and inhales deeply.

"Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…" Dean keeps reciting from memory, but gets very concerned when he hears the demon begin speaking her own Latin words.

"Potentiae mater natura factus mea, frigidus aer per me cum vires incognita," she says and blows on the salt line. The air comes out of Lizzy's pursed lips foggy, white and frigid. He can feel the coldness on his sock-clad feet and the salt grains begin scattering. Once the line is sufficiently broken he takes a half step back, salt canister held in front of him, and grows concerned. This demon is a little more than he's prepared to handle.

She stands up with ire written deeply into Lizzy's face as she steps past the scattered line. "Hope you don't underestimate me like that again, Hot Shot," she cautions as she once again waves her hand and sends him flying, this time head first into the hallway wall. After leaving an impressive dent, he hits the floor and doesn't move, his lifeless body twisted in a heap.

"What a pain in my ass… or Lizzy's rather, ha," she comments as she gets to work securing him so that she get down to business. "I fucking hate hunters."

* * *

"So I got someone headed to Lizzy's apartment," Bobby informs Sam over the phone. He's searching through his library for anything that might help explain more about this demon they're dealing with.

"Who?" Sam questions, flying down the highway at speeds he's never driven before. Better be someone good if he plans of going head first at a demon wearing Lizzy. That won't be a picnic for sure.

"A guy out in Rhode Island that Rufus knew. Said he was a good hunter and he's bringing his partner with him." Bobby pulls out an oversized book, dust covered and faded. His demonic dictionary as he likes to call it. Been a while since he's needed this bad boy.

"Ok," Sam responds with trepidation. He isn't totally comfortable with letting just any hunters walk into that situation. It makes them all responsible for anything that happens to the people he's never met and it doesn't sit well with Sam.

"I know it ain't great, but it's all we got for now," Bobby reminds Sam. He hears the younger hunter sigh into the phone and it makes him pause before telling him anything more. His solitary drive has surely been hard enough without added issues.

"You find anything more on this demon?" Sam asks, dashing Bobby's hopes of keeping it quiet any longer.

"Yeah. Rufus was actually helpful for once. Told me a pretty important detail about our black-eyed bastard." He flips through the pages quickly, having grown very familiar with the volume over the years. He finds the page he's looking for in no time.

"Good. What is it?"

"Congratulations, it's a girl," Bobby tells him.

"The demon in Lizzy is female?" Sam asks as his heart drops.

"Sure is," Bobby says to him. "Sam, I think it's Laraje. Makes too much damn sense not to be."

"Fuck!" Sam shouts out, his hand coming down on the steering wheel with frustration. "At least now we can try to figure out what it wants."

"Give me some more time and I'll see what I can see," Bobby tells him. "How far out are ya'?"

"'Bout six and a half more hours not counting the weather," Sam says in a low tone. "Bobby, this is so fucking bad."

"No it ain't," Bobby lies sternly, his false sense of strength being the only thing grounding Sam.

"What if…"

"Knock it off with the damned what ifs!" Bobby nearly shouts into the phone. "Like I said before, Dean's been around a while and he knows Lizzy as well as he knows you, damn it. He'll be fine."

"God, I hope so," Sam sighs heavily, eyes weary and back aching with his unmoving position.

* * *

 


	12. Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma'am

* * *

Darkness. That's all he can see as his lids slowly lift. Dean's head pounds along with the rhythm of his heartbeat and the crushing pain radiating from the right side of his skull is nauseating. His brain is working overtime to kick start itself and a sudden flash of panic hits when he comes to the realization that he has no idea where he is, the blackness keeping him in question. Shit, how did he get here? Where  _is_ here? Come on, think, Dean demands of himself as he breaks out in a cold sweat.

"You awake yet?" he hears Lizzy's muffled voice call to him, impatient and rude. She's possessed! It all comes flooding back; the odd behavior, the heavy makeup she was wearing, the empty way she kissed him, the wall he flew into, and the  _other_  wall he flew into. Oh, this is bad. Really bad. Like screwed-to-high-hell-and-back kind of bad.

"Uh," Dean mumbles as he slowly struggles into a seated position, the movement making him even more disoriented and ill. That last wall must have done a number on him considering how sure he is that this concussion is a considerable one. He blows out a breath forcefully before deeply inhaling through his nose, willing the urge to vomit away as he can't see anything and has nowhere to do so. "Where the fuck am I?"

"Storage," Lizzy's voice answers all too simply. "It's where your girlfriend usually hides away her weapons and what not. Of course I took the liberty of removing anything that would be helpful to you so don't bother searching. It'll just waste your time."

Dean sits with his back against the far wall of what he now knows is the hallway closet, trying to ignore the crushing pain and searching his pockets for a lighter. Nothing, great. He then outstretches his arms and feels around, his hand coming in contact with what feels like a flashlight on the floor. Oddly convenient, he thinks as he flicks the switch on.

"Mm," Dean groans with the pain of the bright light hitting his unprepared eyes. The burning onslaught makes the back of his eyes ache tremendously, but he determinedly keeps them open in order to adjust. "What the fuck…" he drawls out as his heart drops with what he sees once his eyes are able to properly see.

"Ah, you found the flashlight, huh?" she smirks from the other side of the door separating them.

The rush of anxiety punches him all at once when he beholds the several pictures posted all around the inside door and walls of the closet; photos of all the women from Dean's past. All the females he's come across and, for the most part, has long left behind.

"What is this?" Dean blinks rapidly, trying to focus enough to process what is going on.

"Dean Winchester, this is your life!" her voice cheerfully announces from the other side of the door. "Or rather your romantic life, if it can actually be considered romantic. A bit more like bang and ditch if you ask me."

He closes his eyes for a moment, willing away the ache in his head in order to deal with the absurd situation he finds himself in. Clearly this demon has an angle, one that has to do with his personal life for whatever reason, and he needs to figure it out before any more harm comes to Lizzy.

"Fuck me," Dean laments while pressing his palms into his eye sockets, the stress and frustration momentarily overcoming him and making the physical pain he's in that much worse.

"Hey, I tried sweetie," she comments. "You weren't having it. Your loss, too. I am a blast in bed."

"I'm sure you are," Dean caustically quips. "Sorry to disappoint, honey, but I'm not really into screwing evil pieces of shit."

"Right, I forgot which Winchester I was dealing with," she laughs hardily with her own joke.

"Shut the fuck up," Dean spits with the dig on his brother. She may have had a point, but no one talks about his brother that way. No one!

"Well, either way the invitation is always there," she quickly returns. "I'm sure Sam would vouch for me when I say that evil chicks are a hell of a lot more fun."

Dean stops trying to talk to her, knowing the demon will have an answer to everything he says anyways. He shines the light onto the pictures, wincing with the pain the light still causes him, and really looks at each one. There were the obvious ones; Cassie, Lisa, Lizzy. There were also an unexpected one of Jo and some oldies like Rachel and Amanda. He focuses on the last picture he's yet to take in and freezes. This one, though very familiar, didn't fit the obvious pattern  _at all_.

"So, you haven't said yet. You like my collage work?" Lizzy voice asks. "Pretty good, right? I really feel I've captured the essence of your dick's life work."

"Uh, my dick definitely didn't get to meet everyone posted here," Dean observes.

"Pretty damn close though," she tells him. "And yes, there are a few you may not have had sex with, but that certainly isn't the only barometer of a person's love for another."

"What is the point to all of this?" Dean asks, not understanding why this is happening. "What flying fuck do you give about my love life?"

"It's my job," she informs him. "Love  _is_  my life, or rather the analyzing, deconstructing, and absolute demolishing of it is."

"What!?"

"The name's Laraje," she introduces, her grin apparent in her voice even from the other side of the wooden door. "It's so very nice to finally meet you, Dean."

"You too," Dean cracks before taking a deep breath and focusing on his memory. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spi… ah…gah…." He's choking. Voice cut off, his throat is being crushed invisibly.

"I'll only let you breathe again if you promise not to finish that exorcism," she says in a sweet tone of voice before letting his airway open again. Dean coughs and sputters as he takes in oxygen in huge gulps.

"Shit," he says through his roughed up airway.

"So are you done trying to be a hero? Because I think it's time we had a chat."

* * *

His left foot tapping quickly along with Led Zeppelin, Sam keeps at it, the threat to his brother turning him into a machine like it always does. Lizzy's life is most certainly being turned upside-down as he sits in the car and it makes him desperate to reach her. He knows what being possessed can do to a person. He's been there before and remembers everything about it with vivid recollection as that kind of experience is one that no person who's been through it forgets.

A few years back, when Meg decided that she wanted to take Sam for a spin, it had been the worst week of his life up until that point. She had a personal vendetta against the Winchesters, having been sent back into the pit by them. Hell sucks for almost all in creation, including demons themselves apparently. Meg was pissed and determined to make them pay.

How she figured out everything he'll never know, but once she was aware of Sam's supposed path in life and Dean's burden to keep him in line or do the unthinkable, she pounced with pure glee. Sam could feel her rage, her absolute hatred she held onto with a fierce grip for the two of them the second she took over. It was burning and strong, just like her satisfaction every time she brought Dean to near tears with Sam's insane, out of character, and purely evil actions.

Sam remembers the feeling of helplessness, especially when he attacked that hunter. He'd never met the guy but Meg knew how to hurt him the most. He remembers cutting off the alarm system and breaking one of the front windows all while screaming inside himself, begging Meg to stop. It was over soon after and Sam can still feel his fists coming in contact with the unknown hunter's face and feel the sensation on the blade handle as he ran that knife cleanly, expertly through the man's neck… unforgettable. There is no amount of time, alcohol, or therapy that could ever wash something like that away. Lizzy can't experience this too, not if Sam could help it.

The one thought that has haunted him the whole trip, however, wasn't that Lizzy would possibly have to live with killing someone innocent if Sam couldn't get to her in time. She may have to live with killing Dean. The human mind can play some quite horrific games on a person when not preoccupied enough and his was doing just that. The repetitive scenery and music he's heard a million times over just can't keep him busy.

The aftermath of such a thing would be beyond comprehension. Lizzy would never,  _never_  forgive herself, he knows that. Their bond was too immense for her to move past doing such a thing, whether it is her fault or not. Then he'd fear for her life. If the demon kills Dean using Lizzy's body, it better kill Lizzy too, or else she'll do it herself. He's certain of that. And even if she can stay strong after that, Sam could never look at her the same. He'd have to get out of her life completely, the pain of knowing what she did, whether it be under her control or not, being too much to overcome.

Then where would that leave him? No Dean, no Lizzy to help him muddle through. He already practically drowned in the experience of losing Dean before. Without Lizzy to help, he wouldn't get by. Not again. The fear and gripping anxiety fills him once more and Sam is compelled try again.

"Castiel," he says, eyes trained on the road. "I'm desperate here, man. If you can hear me, you have to help. Please."

His choked up voice gets nothing in return except the sound of Robert Plant's voice telling him he's gonna leave him softly filling the car.

"Come on, Castiel," he begs out. "Please, Dean could be dead. You have to help. I am begging you to help us. Please!"

He blinks away his ever growing blurry vision and inhales deeply to keep his emotions in check. The powerlessness quickly morphs into ire, the anger he holds inside spilling forth and making him lash out at the unseen angel.

"Then fuck you," he says with absolute disdain and a hint of exhaustion. "You tell us how important Dean is, how he's in trouble, and then fucking disappear. Some angel you are. You know what? I don't need you fucking help. I'll deal with this my own way, whether you approve or not." He reaches for his phone again, prepared to call Ruby and set up a meeting place. "This is your fault, Castiel. I didn't want to do this, but you left me no choice." He listens to the line ring. "Hope you're fucking happy."

* * *

 


	13. A Jill of All Trades

* * *

"So where would you like to begin?" Laraje asks happily with Lizzy's voice, the closet door still acting as a barrier between them. "We could start big with someone like Lisa, or we could ease you into the whole thing with a high school crush like Amanda."

"There's no way this is real," Dean mumbles to himself. "My head is screwing with me. I'm seeing things… and hearing things."

"Wouldn't that be nice," she comments flippantly. "However, this is most definitely real. And I've been patient enough so can we get down to business here? The sooner we get our talk over with, the sooner we can move on from it."

"What does moving on mean?" Dean questions cautiously, not particularly liking the sound of it.

"Meaning I can be on my merry way," she explains. "I just want to talk, Dean. All demons get a pretty bad rep since most are sadistic a-holes. I'm more of a talker than a killer."

"And I should believe that why?" Dean's taking everything she says with a giant sized grain of salt. From his experience, demons lie and then lie again. And then they lie some more. He smells bullshit all over her.

"Because you're in there and I'm out here. What choice do you have other than to take my word for it, really?" she huffs. "Ok, I say we start at the very beginning, huh? Let's talk about Rachel Stanwick."

Dean leans heavily back into the hard wall behind him and looks up to the ceiling, begging his fogged over brain to come up with some kind of solution to all of this. Should he try and bust out? He probably couldn't in his injured state and even if he can get the door open, once he's out he has no weapons, no way to fight her. Also, if he fights this demon, he fights Lizzy and he could never hurt her, not even now. Maybe if he can get Castiel's attention he could help out… but she'd hear him praying and know what he was doing. Fuck! He's stuck here until the angel comes back later tomorrow.

"Helloooo?" Laraje calls to him. "You passing out in there? I wouldn't suggest it. That concussion's probably a bad one."

"You're telling me," he says, still weighing the options in his head. He either tries to bust out, probably getting himself and/or Lizzy killed in the process, or he sits tight, pretends to listen to whatever it is she has to say and hopefully assuages the demon long enough for Castiel to arrive.

"So what do you remember about Rachel?" she tries again.

"Um," Dean answers, preparing himself for the worst therapy session ever. "Met her when I was sixteen I think."

"You think?" Laraje asks with surprise. "Are you telling me you don't remember your first? I mean I know there's been only God knows how many since her, Dean, but everyone remembers their first."

"I remember," he tells her. He certainly did. "We were stuck in Colorado for a few weeks. I went to her high school."

"It's all coming back now, isn't it?" she encourages him.

"A little," he admits, but in reality he recalls her clear as day. She was older, seventeen, and he first saw her walking down the hall at school in her combat boots, cut off denim shorts, Nirvana t-shirt and red flannel. She was hot, he surely remembers that. The first thing he noticed on her were her legs that went on for days. "We went to Fort Collins together while I was there. She was a senior and I was a sophomore."

"You liked her right away didn't you?" Laraje questions, obviously knowing the answer already.

"Well, yeah," Dean answers. "Who wouldn't? She was hot."

"How'd you first talk to her?"

"This is ridiculous," Dean says, feeling stupid. He knows there's also a good chance Lizzy is listening in on all this. It's awkward to say the least and judging by the faces on the wall, it's only going to get so much worse.

"Sorry you feel that way, but it has to be done."

"What if I decide I don't want to do this, huh?" Dean challenges. "You can't make me talk."

"You're absolutely right. I physically cannot make you talk, but…" Laraje pauses as she sweeps the blade of a knife underneath the door, the metal gleaming with the soft light in the closet and catching Dean's eye. "You don't talk, you're sweetie doesn't live after I'm gone. So start speaking."

Dean's heart races at the threat as he watches the blade disappear from sight. She's got him by the balls, or by the Lizzy rather, and there's nothing he can do about it.

"So, how did you first get to talk to Rachel?" Laraje asks once again.

"A house party," Dean returns, doing whatever he can to keep Lizzy from getting seriously hurt. "Her parents were out of town and I went with some guys I'd met from school."

"And using that over-confident swagger of yours, you just walked right up to her and struck up a conversation?"

"Not exactly," Dean recalls, embarrassment already hitting him hard. "I had swiped a bottle from a liquor store earlier that day. I forget what it was, but someone told me it was her favorite. I brought it to the party and gave it to her."

"And she just dropped her panties right then and there, huh?" Laraje laughs.

"No way. She ended up challenging me to go shot for shot with her. I ended up losing big time and puking in her back yard when I'd hoped no one was looking. She saw though."

"Smooth," she comments.

"Hey, it worked," Dean explains, defending his actions. "I yakked but she was impressed that I could keep up as much as I did. Apparently I was the only dude to get as far as I did against her. Guess taking my portion of dad's supply all those times ended up paying off finally. After a little mouthwash, I spent the night in her bedroom listening to Soundgarden and popping my cherry. I don't remember much of it though… I was pretty wasted."

"So Rachel ushered you into manwhoredom with all the grace of a five buck hooker," Laraje remarks with utter enjoyment. "Then what?"

"Then nothing. I walk-of-shamed it back to the motel the next day to find Sam still passed out on his bed, half eaten bowl of Cheerios on the nightstand and TV blaring. I left the poor kid to his own devices for the night. I shouldn't have either. He was only twelve. Still feel kinda bad about that. We left that day when dad got back and told us to pack it up. Never saw her again."

"Wow, I mean, I've heard plenty of first time stories before, but yours is just… perfect."

"How do you figure?" Dean questions, wondering how puking at a party and leaving before saying goodbye is perfect.

"It's just so you! I mean, drinking too much, banging a chick you barely know, never seeing her again after. Talk about foreshadowing!"

Dean sighs and closes his eyes. She was right. He did have quite the pattern going. Maybe Rachel did set him up for a life of the same; get drunk, find girl, have sex with said girl, on to the next. That night he did indeed discover how easy it was to get a chick in bed. He barely had to lift a finger, only a shot glass several times. With his lifestyle, he quickly found that this game of his worked like a charm.

"See Dean," Laraje begins explaining. "Even from the jump you were meant to be on the road, banging strange and having whatever fun you can find. Rachel was just there to give you a nudge in the right direction. She was the perfect example of what was to come and I have to say, she did a hell of a job."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean complains. "She was just a chick at a high school party that had a thing for drunk, stupid underclassmen."

"No, she was there for a reason," she explains. "Just like Amanda was there to show you without a doubt what you could never have."

"Huh!" Dean finds himself beyond confused and frustrated. She's changing subjects awfully quick and in his busted mind he's having a hard time keeping things straight. "I'm a bit cloudy over here so you better start making more sense, bitch."

"Amanda Heckerling. She was hot, and sweet, and a bit of a goody-goody," Lizzy's voice reminds him. "Not your usual type."

"Nah, but isn't variety the spice of life?" Dean jests, though he hears Lizzy saying it in the back of his mind. She once told him this when talking about his musical preferences and the lack of range in it. Damn it, he misses her already.

"Very funny," Laraje says in Lizzy's voice with a kind laugh. Maybe she's warming up to him. Wouldn't that be nice? "But back then you never once thought, huh, this chick is nothing like the girls I usually go for. Why did I go after her?"

"No," Dean honestly tells her.

"Well, she was also there for a reason. She taught you another important life lesson. If your last name is Winchester, you can't have a girlfriend or a normal life."

"I can promise you I wasn't looking for a girlfriend at that time," Dean informs her while wiping the trickle of blood running down his temple. Shit, he's still bleeding. He begins to take off his flannel shirt to use it to stop the bleeding

"Oh, I'm aware, but the invitation to meet her parents wasn't quite as terrible as you played it off, now was it?"

Dean freezes mid shirt removal. How did she know that?

"You're quiet, which means I'm right." Laraje is starting to piss him off now.

"If you know everything already, why am I doing the recap thing for you?" Dean asks with sheer annoyance.

"It's better that way," she explains. "People tend to recall things much more clearly if they are forced to do it themselves. Now back to Amanda. Be honest here. Deep down, you kind of wanted to meet them, didn't you?"

"No!" Dean says a little too defensively as he presses his shirt to the side of his head with the gash on it. He knows he's being too transparent and is giving himself up. Might as well be truthful now. "Alright, maybe it wouldn't have totally sucked."

"And you still said no. Why? Your image? To convince yourself that you really were more of a ladies man than boyfriend material?"

"No," Dean says, cringing with the throbbing wound as he puts more pressure on it. "What would be the point? We're constantly on the move. Why bother?"

"So Rachel taught you a lesson and Amanda cemented into place," Laraje concludes. "How convenient, huh?"

"Whatever," Dean responds, already tired from the discussion and from the concussion. He closes his eyes once more and wallows in his own misery as his trapped-like-a-rat situation gets the best of him. And it's official, Lizzy was right; he's very clearly not allowed to take a vacation.

* * *

"You're not gonna like what I have to tell ya'," Bobby warns as he pours his second glass of cheap booze. After looking further into the demon they're now sure they're up against, he started drinking to curb his growing anxiety.

"Super," Sam complains as he sees the first flurries on the outskirts of the storm start to fall all around his car. "Alright, out with it, Bobby. Just get it over with."

"When I said she liked conflict and love, I was right. But in her mind they ain't exactly mutually exclusive."

"The fuck does that mean?" Sam asks while rubbing his weary eyes. The road was repetitive and mind-numbing enough. The added hypnosis of the rapidly falling white specks shooting towards his windshield like a scene from inside the Millennium Falcon isn't helping. It makes his tired eyes have to work even harder.

"It means she's a master anti-couples therapist," Bobby explains, pausing to take down some of his whiskey. "She likes to fuck with people's minds, make them fall outta both love and all attraction with their current significant other."

"Interesting…" Sam trails off. "So it sounds like she's purposely going after them."

"That's what I'm thinking. Though not sure what the motive would be."

"You really can't see how breaking them up would be a smart move for the bad guys?" Sam asks, surprised Bobby wouldn't get it. "They both have an important purpose for the good guys. They're needed and there's no way demons haven't figured it out by now."

"Great," Bobby caustically complains. "You think it's possible?"

"That Laraje went to fuck with them. Yeah, Bobby. I do."

"No, no," Bobby brushes off. He's pretty damn sure that's what's happening anyways. "I mean do you think it's possible for anythin' to break those two up? Seems like it'd take a whole hell of a lot."

"I don't know. Depends on how good she is I guess." Sam blinks rapidly again as a brightly lit sign appears on the side of the road. Rest stop. Time for a frantic run in for coffee and a quick fuel up. "Anything else helpful you find?"

"Well, her weapon of choice is interesting. She uses a bow and arrow."

"Very, uh, retro of her," Sam comments, not expecting the old, arcane weaponry to still be a choice for a demon in the twenty-first century.

"Of course it ain't just any ol' bow and arrow," Bobby continues.

"That'd be too easy, right?"

"Right. The arrows are tipped with pestilence. On contact, it does the same initial damage as any other arrow, but quickly the wound becomes infected and festers."

"Gross."

"No kiddin'," Bobby concurs, a gulp of booze to wash away the nasty idea. "And the best part, the only thing that can cure the rotting damage is Laraje herself. Only her touch can make it stop… otherwise, you're good as dead."

"Watch out for arrows," Sam states, repeating the information to store it away. He turns into the parking lot at the side of the highway.

"Damn straight watch for em'," Bobby says.

"So she causes conflict and war, ruins love, can kill in probably the nastiest way possible, and can control the weather?" Sam tried his best to sum everything up, his overworked and overly tired brain struggling to keep on top of all the information Bobby gives him. "Jill of all fucking trades, huh?" Sam throws the car in park once he's pulled up to the rest stop.

"Oh yeah. She's into everything."

"She also sell steak knives door to door?" Sam jests while grabbing his wallet from the glove box and jumping out of the car.

"Nah, but it's said she bakes a mean chocolate chip cookie," Bobby returns with huff.

Sam pushes through the glass doors and shakes the snow out of his hair. "Gotta let you go. I'm stopping real quick for fuel."

"You hit snow yet?"

"Just a few minutes ago. It's coming fast so from here on out, I gotta concentrate."

"Ok. Just be careful, Sam…"

"I know Bobby," Sam interrupts him before ending the call. He's had enough with the cautious warnings. He just wants to get back to it and get to Dean and Lizzy.

* * *

 


	14. Jailbait

* * *

"Don't move," Laraje sternly warns as she opens the closet door while carrying several items in Lizzy's arms. Dean is sitting in the corner of the very small room, his back propped up on one wall and head resting on his balled up flannel shirt against the adjoining wall. The pain hasn't subsided in the least. He hazily peers up to get a glimpse at Lizzy's face and to his utter disappointment it looked nothing like her to him. The expression on it is different, so very not her, and the stance she takes is strange and foreign.

"Don't touch me," Dean quietly demands, his energy sapped by the ferocious pain and fatigue of his still troublesome head injury.

"Don't move like I asked and I won't have to," Lizzy's voice responds and he wants to scream. He hates that this thing got past her and took her from him. His possessive nature has been killing him over this. That was  _his_  Lizzy. She belonged to no one else, especially not this demon.

"I'm sorry, L," Dean sadly mutters, hoping she gets the message.

"Oh please," Laraje responds with discontent. "She's just fine in here, tucked away comfortably and getting a front row seat for the show. Honestly, don't worry about her. She's in  _much_  better shape than you are right now."

"Son of a bitch," Dean mutters. She's there, listening and watching just like he'd hoped she wasn't.

"Here," the demon says, leaning down to place a bottle of water, a container of pain pills, and a fifth of whiskey onto the hardwood floor.

"Were you a nurse before you went darkside or something?" Dean jests to her, surprised with her act of kindness.

"Nope," she grins slightly. "Nurses didn't exist when _I_  was created."

"So what, you're just a nice demon?"

"Like I said, I have a reason for being here and it isn't to kill you." Laraje stands back up and shuts the closet door, the lock clicking into place loudly. "Take the pills. Found them when I was ransacking that closet. They'll help."

Dean picks up the orange prescription bottle and reads the label. Vicodin prescribed by the one and only Dr. Elizabeth Noonan of Boston. She's still pulling her pharmacy scam. That's my girl, he thinks quickly.

"So how long are we going to do this for?" Dean questions as he pops the top of the pill bottle and tips it to his mouth, letting two in. His head hurt like a bitch and one was certainly not going to be enough. Plus, he welcomed the chance to get a little medical relaxation. He might need it to soften the mental blow of the much hated conversation he's gotten into.

"As long as it takes my dear," she tells him. "So who's next? Should we dive into some heavier stuff here?"

Dean swallows the pills with the water he was given, thinking that whiskey and pain killers would possibly make him a little too relaxed in a time like this. She may be trying to show that she doesn't want to harm him, but as he's learned, demons lie like rugs.

"Well, you've been doing a fine enough job choosing on your own," he bites. "Be my fucking guest."

"Such a gentleman. I say we get adorable little Jo Harvelle out of the way."

"Sounds good since there's nothing to talk about there," Dean comments. "The only relationship we've ever had was a strictly business one."

"You sure about that?" Laraje protests.

"Yes," Dean responds while the ball of guilt grows within him.

"Huh," she wonders. "I must have been misinformed then."

"Misinformed?" Shit, the guilt is getting heavier now.

"I had just always gotten the impression that there was something there." Laraje says it cheerfully, making Dean angry now. "A little spark maybe. She is cute after all."

"I know what you're doing," he tells her but it doesn't stop her from continuing on.

"I mean, seriously? Can we be honest here? You liked her the second you met her."

"Before or after she punched me in the face?" Denial. Maybe he's always known he's been ignoring this thing he has for Jo since the day he met Lizzy for a good reason. Lizzy was immediately what he wanted, completely and totally and without question. But that didn't make his previous feelings for Jo just poof, disappear. That's not how emotions work unfortunately. "Come on, Jo is just a kid," he tries to convince the demon as well as himself. "She's too young. She's my and Sam's little, pain in the ass sister if anything."

"Unpleasant, Dean," Laraje remarks. "I know what kind of thoughts pop up in your mind when you think of Jo. Not very brotherly of you, sicko."

Dean sighs loudly with the disbelief over what is happening and decides to go with it. It's what Laraje wants so what choice does he have but to be honest with her. "So I think she's hot, so what? I'm only human after all, right?"

"Right," she answers back, agreeing with him. "I just think you need to be forthright. Before Lizzy, you had a thing for that blonde little piece of jailbait. Am I wrong?" She waits for a response but gets none. "Am I?"

"You're not wrong," Dean answers back quietly, telling the complete truth. "But once I met Lizzy that was over. Jo is still important to me. She's a good friend and I still feel the need to protect her. She's green, not strong enough to be a hunter on her own so she worries me. But I love Lizzy. The only person I want now is Lizzy."

"You convincing me of that or yourself?" Laraje wonders aloud. "Or maybe you're trying to convince Lizzy?"

"Answer D, none of the above," Dean angrily answer. "You asked for honesty so I'm giving it."

"Well, for what it's worth I believe you," Laraje tells him calmly.

"Oh goody," Dean quips. "Look, I don't give a shit if you believe me or not. The only person I'm concerned about here is Lizzy."

"Ha, you know I can actually feel her relaxing a little in here," Laraje informs him. "She was worried about the Jo thing."

"What?" Dean asks, very confused. He always assumed Lizzy knew nothing of Jo at all. "Why would she be worried?"

"A while ago, just after meeting you, Bobby sent her and Lou to the Roadhouse. They met Jo and let's just say she made it clear that you were off limits to them."

"Off limits?" Dean questions with shock. Jo was calling dibs on him?

"Oh yeah. You and your brother came up in conversation and Jo did her best to stake her claim on you. Not in those words of course, but it certain put Lizzy off a bit."

"Shit," Dean sighs.

"Knowing now that it was just a passing crush, she's better with it now," Laraje tells him. "It's a shame Jo still holds you in such high regard. She really is a good, sweet kid."

"Yeah." He feels a new kind of guilt creep in now.

If this isn't one of the worst days of his life, he doesn't know what is.

* * *

Full tank of gas and huge coffee in hand, Sam drops back into the driver's seat of the old, struggling car with a weary sigh, unhappy but determined to continue on his monotonous journey. The door squeaks in protest as he pulls it shut. He turns to the right and immediately jumps with shock at the figure sitting in the passenger seat.

"Shit!" Sam shouts out, nearly spilling the liquid he desperately needs as he registers who is invading his space. "Ruby!"

"Hi Sam," she plainly greets.

"Never thought angels and demons would have something in common," he quips, noticing that the two have a similar and unnerving way of greeting people.

"Sorry," she apologizes for scaring him. "But we need to talk."

"Of course you do," Sam remarks with exhaustion.

"You can't go to Lizzy's," she warns, turning sideways to face him. "You need to turn back."

"You know I'm not gonna do that," Sam tells her in an even tone, thinking she should have known that'd be his response.

"I don't think you know what you're going to be up against here," Ruby warns. "I looked into it, asked around to the few friendly faces I still have out there. This bitch isn't a joke."

"Laraje?" Sam asks, receiving a wide eyed look in return. "Yeah, Bobby figured it out." Sam says it with a hint of pride in the man.

"Smart for a hick," she returns.

"He knows a thing or two," Sam tells her with even more pride. "I'm well aware of who the demon is."

"So you know that over the past few years she's become massively powerful?" Ruby adds. "She's no lightweight. She's good, and she's really strong at this point."

"So was Samhain," Sam challenges. "Took him down."

"Well, congrats there big boy. You wasted a demon that was dormant for hundreds of years and totally out of shape. You want to a fucking cookie, Sam?"

"Be nice," Sam quietly warns, now used to her biting tone and mean remarks.

"She's bigger than you realize. She spent centuries building her powers through collecting items and spells," Ruby explains sternly. "And I don't think she'll be the cakewalk you assume she'll be."

"I'm not assuming anything, Ruby," Sam says while glaring at her. "I just know I can't let Dean and Lizzy deal with this alone. Lizzy's possessed."

"I know that."

"Then don't act like I can just leave this one alone!" Sam watches her flinch slightly as his voice begins rising along with his anger at her for asking him to stay away. "I've been there, Ruby! It's awful and she needs help. She needs me."

"But isn't that what Dean's for?" Ruby reminds him. "If they're so fucking in love then he would know right away and take care of it, right?"

"Maybe, but I can't take that chance," Sam adds looking back out the windshield. "I can't get ahold of him so I have no idea what's going on. Look, I appreciate you trying to warn me or whatever, but I have to do this. Either you can help or you can get the fuck out. Your choice." He sits while staring straight ahead and silently hoping that she'll chose to help. Without his go juice this whole situation may be impossible to handle. He does need her help, as much as he didn't want to admit it.

Ruby sighs loudly while opening the car door. She stands up from her seat and Sam's spirits plummet. She isn't going to help. She's going to let him walk right into the fire without a hose. That bitch. He turns his head to tell her exactly that when she leans forward, her head dipping back into the car.

"I'll meet you at the place we already agreed on. Call when you're close." With that she slams the door shut and walks away, body language stiff with anger.

Sam lets out a breath of relief. He turns the key in the ignition and pulls out of the rest stop with a renewed sense of perseverance. He knows what he's about to face and he'll be as ready as he possibly can be. Speeding into the darkening sky, Sam finds the worry and absorbing tension that had been resting on his shoulders for the drive so far becoming less of a concern.

* * *

 


	15. An Unexpected Visitor

* * *

"Head any better?" Laraje checks on him as she opens the closet door and looks him over, fresh glass of wine in hand. She left him alone for a while to let Dean sleep a little, the concussion making him exhausted. Her voice pulls him out of his sleep and for the first time he isn't excited to hear it. Waking up to Lizzy's comforting words usually puts him in a wonderful place and he hopes that this moment won't ruin that for him in the future.

"Ah, fuck," Dean groans as he pries his heavier than usual head off of the makeshift flannel pillow he created and is greeted by the angry blaze of the overhead hallway lighting, making it feel as though his head is splitting in two.

"I'll assume no then," Laraje comments while kicking the pill bottle over to him. "Take another."

"Nah, I'm fine," Dean responds as he shifts to sit up from his slouched position.

"Yeah, you look it," she sarcastically remarks before dropping to the floor and sitting against the wall opposite the still open closet doorway. She sits Indian-style and peers at him, sipping her drink as he regains consciousness enough to intelligibly talk. "Here," she tosses him a clean, white towel.

"You're getting trusting of me," Dean comments as he takes the offering and replaces his now ruined shirt. He realizes she's going to keep the door open this time around.

"Or you're getting dumber," Laraje smirks. "You have not a single weapon on you and all I have to do to stop you is wave my hand. I think I'll risk it." She winks at him with a tight lipped smile.

"Look, this conversation is getting old and my fucking head is killing me, no thanks to you. You gonna let her go or not?" Dean wonders as his impatience is grating on him. He can't stop worrying about Lizzy. She's stuck in there, having to hear all this information about his past. He doesn't know how bad the slice in her wrist is nor if this demon really will let her go free once this is all done. If he were to be honest, he's terrified. "Because I have to tell ya', trying to focus on this conversation with you is kinda tough when I don't know if she's walking away from this."

"Fucking relax," Laraje says. "You are on vacation after all, aren't you?"

"Some vacation," he grumbles miserably.

"Do hunters even get vacations?" Laraje rebuts.

"As of right now, my answer to that would be a big fucking no," Dean says and he watches as Laraje laughs at his words. The laugh isn't unlike Lizzy's. It's surprisingly warm and light. "Creepy."

Laraje looks at him with confusion, tilting Lizzy's head in a way reminiscent of Castiel when he doesn't understand something.

"Sorry, I've just never seen or heard a demon laugh like that," Dean explains himself. "Usually it's one of those lame, B movie, bad guy gut-laughs."

"Yeah, well, most demons also want to kill everything and thrive on putting fear in others."

"You don't?" Dean asks with surprise.

"I get my rocks off in other ways," she says while looking at the floor and hiding her smile.

"Like?" He's curious, never having met a demon that didn't want to gut him on the spot. What the hell else would a demon get its kicks from?

"So how about that Cassie Robinson, huh?" Laraje changes the subject, peering up at Dean and waiting for his response.

"Nice avoidance of the question," he remarks.

"Sooner you give me what I want, the sooner you get back what you want," she reminds him, Lizzy's chestnut eyes glinting back at him.

"Alright," Dean complains, knowing how hefty this conversation will be. Maybe a little whiskey wouldn't kill him right now. He reaches over, feeling his muscles protest against the movement after having fallen asleep on such a hard surface as he does, grasps the fifth of Wild Turkey and cracks the cap open. Taking a long pull straight from the bottle, he then focuses once more on the demon. "Cassie was a good girl. Awesome, actually."

"How awesome?" Laraje questions, leaning forward with her intent focus on him. He sees just how much she enjoys these conversations now that the door doesn't block him from her during them. This is how she gets her rocks off.

"Like she was smart, really smart. And not just book smart like Sam. Cassie was wise beyond her years. And a bit of a wise ass too." He has fun recalling her. Though she hurt him, he still learned a lot from their time together.

"What was your deal with her?" the demon asks, lifting the wine glass to Lizzy's lips as she does.

"Met her while on the road with dad a while back, it was when Sam was at school. God that whole thing sucked and being with just Dad wasn't always a fucking picnic. Sam had already been gone for about a year so I had gotten used to finding ways to occupy myself during the more boring times on the road by then," he freely admits. "She was beautiful. The first time I saw her at that college bar I had to talk to her. Once I finally did, she laughed in my face when I dropped a line on her. Not one girl had ever so blatantly blew me off like that…."

"Be careful," Laraje warns with a slight grin. "Don't want to make that ego of yours any bigger than you've already made it."

"Guess you don't know me that well just yet," Dean comments, knowing his ego was mostly just a front. It was something Lizzy had let him in on a long time ago in her efforts to make him a better person and more manageable to even himself. She was right, spot on as always.

"So she blew you off…" Laraje gets him back on track.

"And I tried again and skipped the cheesy lines. I just talked to her. She responded better that time, giving me the chance to buy her a drink and hang with her for the night."

"I smell a one night stand coming on." She smiles to him from across the hall.

"So did I at the time," Dean tells her. "But the next day she actually wanted to hang out more and oddly enough, I wanted to too. We then saw each other every day for the few weeks I was in town. It was great."

"But as history has proven, all good things in the life of a Winchester must come to an end," Laraje comments, looking at him attentively as he contemplates her words.

"Well… no… I just had to leave and head to the next hunt. I had no intentions of ending it with Cassie."

"But you made a huge mistake with her, Dean," she cuts in. "You never should have told her the truth. You were well aware that you can't tell people about what you do. It never ends well."

"And I regretted it. For a long time I regretted it," he explains. "I thought that it was my fault and I beat myself up over the whole thing, thought that I was the one who screwed it up. But after a while I realized that it was actually her fault."

"How so?" Laraje questions, confusion on Lizzy's face.

"I was totally truthful, told her about my life and let her in. It was the first time I've ever taken down my wall because I wanted to make things work. I liked her."

"Correction," she cuts in. "You loved her."

"Yeah, maybe I did," he admits.

"No maybe. Be honest here, Lizzy's depending on it." Laraje gives him a look along with the very serious threat that reminds him he better keep with the truth.

"Fine, I loved her. I did. And she crapped on my heart." Dean's face twists with the flood of emotions that come back to him. He feels the rejection, sadness, and utter disappointment once more, as if the whole thing was happening all over again.

"To be fair, you did say she was smart. And smart people don't believe in ghosts and monsters and tend to shy away from those that do."

"I don't know what I expected," he admits. "In my head, everything could have worked out. I would visit her every chance I got and one day get out of the game and give it an honest go. How I could think that was doable seems stupid now."

"That's interesting," Laraje says, pointing at him accusingly and honing in on his words. "Isn't that exactly what you're attempting to do now?"

"No, not at all. I can't get out," Dean tells her. "Not right this minute at least. You know, the Apocalypse and all. Hell, even if I make it out of this alive, which I don't assume I will, I'm beginning to wonder if there will ever be a way out."

"You're missing the point." Laraje take another sip of wine and before she can begin schooling him a little more Dean takes a swig of whiskey to prepare himself. The amount of good points she's been making is beginning to leave him second guessing the way he's attempting to live his life.

"And here's where your smart ass informs me of how it really is, right?" He raises his eyebrows at her, waiting for the lecture.

"Absolutely," she grins. "You say it was stupid of you to think you could ever make anything work between you and Cassie for reasons such as you could only see her now and then, she'd always be waiting for you, and because you'd never find a way to get out of hunting and make a real life with her. Now, I'd love for you to explain to me how that's any different than what you're trying to do with Lizzy."

Dean sighs loudly as his words fail to formulate. How was it different? I certainly felt different, very different, but on paper it was the same damn story all over again.

Laraje shares a lopsided sad grin coated in sympathy. "You can't, can you?"

"It is different," Dean tries to tell her.

"How?" Laraje challenges.

"It just is," he simple says as if it would be plenty for her to accept.

"Not good enough, Dean," she warns.

"It's different because Lizzy is different," he finally half shouts, causing the headache to flare up with the effort. "She isn't Cassie. She's better, more understanding. She gets the life I live. I mean, shit, she's lived it. Still is."

"So what?" Laraje returns with a little fire of her own. "She's still just a woman like Cassie. She needs to be with the person she loves. Every night that she has to sleep alone, every morning that she wakes up without you kills her a little more. She's tired, Dean. Tired of missing you. Tired of wondering when she'll actually see you again. Tired of wondering if you're alive or if today is the day that Sam calls to say you're dead…again. It isn't fair to her."

Laraje pauses, glaring at Dean with narrowed eyes but he just looks down at the bottle in his hand before taking another large gulp. She never told him these things, most likely so she doesn't upset him. She cares so damn much that he had no idea how much their relationship was taking a toll on her. She's unhappy and he made her that way.

"It's not your fault," Laraje keeps going. "You didn't choose this life, it chose you. You are a hunter Dean, that's your lot. It comes with a hero status, constant broken bones, a shorter than usual lifespan, and an inability to keep others close to you. You need to let Lizzy go and let her live her life."

"No," Dean refuses immediately. "We're better together than apart. What happened to her when I was gone, it was bad. She didn't sleep, didn't eat, drank constantly. I can't leave her and make her crumble like that all over again. She needs me."

"And she's a hell of a lot stronger than you give her credit," Laraje informs him. "She muddled through when you were stuck in the devil's playground. Lizzy maintained a job, a life, reconnected with old friends. She was on the road to being ok. She could be again."

"And what if I need her?" Dean spills out with his eyes closed, admitting something to not only Laraje and certainly Lizzy, but to himself also. "What if she keeps me together, in one piece? What if I'm the one who will crumble without her, huh? I'm barely hanging on as it is. Without Lizzy, my life would be total shit and I wouldn't want to live it. I need her."

"Awful selfish of you, Hot Shot." He looks up quickly to see her blank expression staring back. "You'd be willing to keep her in your life, keep her miserable every day, just so that you can find some sort of happiness?" Laraje shakes her head in disapproval. "I hope you think that's worth it. Of course, in my opinion if you love someone, truly love them, you do whatever you can to make their life the best it possibly can be. You sure you're doing that for Lizzy?"

Dean drops his head in his hands with the barrage of thoughts she's inserting into his now very confused head. Was he really doing all this to her? It isn't fair. She's so loving and good and she deserves to be with someone that can always make her life better. If he is actually making her this unhappy, he can't stay in her life, but he had been so sure that he wasn't doing that. They were so damn happy when together.

"I…" Dean starts but his words disappear.

"What?" Laraje bids to him.

"I love her," he admits. "More than I love my own self. Way more actually. And I don't want…"

He's cut off by a sound coming from the front porch. It was clicking of metal on metal and it lets both the hunter and demon know that someone is attempting to pick the front door lock. They know that sound well.

"Hold that thought," Laraje wittily commands as she stands up and walks to him. She takes his blood caked flannel shirt and quickly ties his sleeve around his mouth, gagging him and impairing his voice. Halfway through her task, Dean begins fighting back but soon enough he's forced against the back wall of the closet by her unseen strength. "Stop it, Dean. You know I'm going to win."

She then uses the other sleeve to bind his hands tightly behind him. "I'm going to go see who was nice enough to come visit us during such terrible weather and you sit put. Oh and be sure to keep quiet… don't want to put Lizzy in any unnecessary harm, right?" She winks before shutting the door and locking it behind her.

In the darkness, Dean listens as Laraje makes her way down the stairs, the sound of Lizzy's bare feet slapping onto hard wood to the front door. He feels his heart race as he's helpless against whatever is about to come through that door, knowing that it will all end with either Laraje killing whoever it is or Lizzy getting hurt… or worse.

* * *

"Hi there," Lizzy's sweet voice greets as she opens the door mid-pick. The man standing on the other side, still hunched over, looks up in surprise and abruptly stands while shoving his hands in his pockets to hide the evidence. "Can I help you?" She puts her full, wide smile on display.

"Uh," the stranger stutters with her unexpected appearance. "I'm looking for Dean. A friend of mine told me he'd be here." He averts his eyes once he realizes she's only in a t-shirt and underwear, even though she shows no sign of embarrassment.

Shit, Dean thinks as he freezes in place and strains to hear what's happening in the foyer through the closet door. He could swear he recognizes the man's voice he just heard.

"Oh!" she brightly responds. "Yeah, he's here. Sleeping, actually." She presses her index finger to her lips, asking him to be quiet.

"Ok," the man cautiously says, unsure of what to do in the situation. He was told that Dean was here with a woman who was possessed. This girl didn't seem possessed….

"He's on shore leave right now," she explains. "Been up for days straight and needed to crash pretty damn hard, and judging by the lock pick and the gun you're trying to hide, I assume you know how that is."

The man looks at her with shock. She just continues smiling right back at him and extends her hand in his direction.

"Lizzy Noonan," she greets as the man takes her hand and shakes. "Female hunter extraordinaire."

"Jackson Ferrell," he returns. "Also a hunter, just not female. And I'm a friend of Bobby Singer's."

Jack! Dean remembers Jackson from a few years back. The guy was tracking down a nasty witch in Utah when their paths crossed. If Dean and Sam hadn't ganked that witch when they did, this guy would be as good as dead with the curse she'd put on him. Damn it, Jack! What is he doing here!

"Oh hell, any friend of Bobby's is a friend of mine!" she grins.

"Yeah, he was worried about you two, thought something might be wrong," Jackson explains as he takes his hand back and scans the inside of the apartment. "Called and asked me to come check it out."

"In this weather!" Her eyes bug out of her head. "Is he nuts!"

"Hey, Dean saved my ass a few years back and I owe the kid one for that," Jackson smiles slightly. "If I have the chance to return the favor, I can brave a little snow."

"Well, shit man. Come on in," she warmly invites, opening the door wider. "There's no way you're driving back home in this. Come warm up and wait it out with us. You can catch up with Dean once his lazy ass wakes up." She laughs a little and steps aside, her hand gesturing for him to come in. He steps up over the threshold, looking down at the scattered salt line and the knot in his stomach tightens. The Winchesters were perfect hunters, he knows that for sure, and they'd never surround themselves with shitty ones so he knows Lizzy should be pretty on point herself. Neither would have let something like a carelessly broken salt line pass them.

Sitting in the closet unable to help is making Dean insane. He can't see what's happening and however this ends it won't be good, he's sure of it.

"I'm relieved to see that everything is fine around here," Jackson says to her once he's standing at the bottom of the staircase and turns to face her. He reaches into his pants pocket once his back is to her, grasping firmly onto the metal flask within it. "Bobby seemed real worried. He looks at you two like his own kids, you know."

"Oh, I know," she tells him, overly fake smile still in place. "That's why he'd be pissed to hear you came in here and tried to hurt me."

Jackson's nerves go into overdrive with her odd words. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you are about to douse me in holy water, right?" she questions him. "Seeing as Bobby is no idiot, I think you know that holy water is gonna burn me like a bitch, so why don't you just drop it." Her suggestion is strongly emphasized but her smile never fades.

God damn it, Jackson! Dean presses his back against the far wall of the closet and draws in his legs, pushing them out and forcefully hitting the closet door, trying to break it down.

Once Jackson hears the loud bang coming from upstairs, he knows just how wrong the whole situation is. Exercising his best judgment in the moment, he decides not to heed the given warning and pulls the flask quickly from his pocket. She shakes her head no as he fumbles with the screw cap.

"I tried to warn you," Laraje says sadly as she raises her hand, flicking her wrist quickly clockwise. Pete's head twists to the right sharply, the cracking noises filling the quiet foyer and his body thuds onto the floor lifelessly.

"No!" Laraje hears a voice shout out with Jackson's unfortunate death and before she can turn around a white hot pain hits her upper right shoulder.

"Ahhh!" she shouts out in sheer pain.

Dean bellows through the cloth in his mouth with panic and tries harder to break down the door with the sound of her screams. She's hurt, he knows it. Whether it's his Lizzy or not, he doesn't care. He needs to get to her. The wood begins cracking and splintering beneath his sock-covered feet with the next kick.

Laraje turns quickly to see a much younger man standing in the open door, a mixture of surprise and fear written deep into his expression. He glances down at the floor and his face turns white with the sight of Jackson's dead body. "Oh God. Dad."

"Fuck," Laraje complains as she reaches over her shoulder and grasp the knife handle sticking out of Lizzy's back. "Said it before and I'll say it again." She strides quickly over to the young man who's standing still, clearly in shock. Expertly twirling the knife handle in her hand to reposition her grip, she swipes the blade through the air and slices deeply into the young man's neck. Laraje watches as he clutches tightly onto his immediately profusely bleeding throat, eyes wide with panic and searching Lizzy's face. "I fucking hate hunters."

The young man falls to the floor and soon enough grows still with blood loss, his eyes wide and motionless.

Now that the apartment is quiet once more, Dean's left question what is happening. He heard her voice so he knows she's alive. The struggle is clearly over and he's left alone with his imagination, running wild and creating scenarios that horrify him.

Laraje sighs heavily with the now messy foyer, covered in blood and stupid hunters. She contemplates cleaning up the disaster but instead steps over the younger body, closes and locks the front door, and makes her way across the lifeless obstacles to climb back up the stairs, her bare feet leaving deep red footprints on the gleaming wooden floor as she goes.

* * *

 


	16. What I Do Got is a G.E.D. and a Son

* * *

The closet door slowly opens and Dean sits up straight, eyes frantic to get a look at whoever it was that survived the struggle.

"She'll be fine," Laraje spits out with a slightly disgusted tone once the door if fully open and she gets a look at his panic riddled face. Standing in the doorway she inspects the broken door and rolls her eyes. "Damn! You hulk out in here or what?"

Dean continues to look up at her, the fire in his gut clearly coming straight through in his eyes. His penchant for using the English language creatively is unfortunately lost on the moment as his mouth is bound. This demon is damn smart for picking Lizzy to possess, he thinks to himself. Otherwise he'd be doing everything he can to pummel the bitch.

"You done with the 'roid rage?" Laraje asks him. "I'd like to untie you now but if you're gonna freak out I can wait."

Dean quickly nods his head to indicate that he'll behave and she leans down to him, dropping Lizzy's black medical bag at his feet as she does, and begins undoing the knots in his shirt to free him.

"Are you hurt!" he asks quickly once the gag is off. "Did you get hurt?"

"Just my ego," she jokes with a smirk as she watches his eyes frantically search Lizzy's form. "Can't believe I let some newbie hunter get one over on me, though." She nudges the bag over to him and takes a seat Indian style with her back facing him. Dean sees the spot of blood glistening on the torn fabric of her black t-shirt. "Lizzy wasn't as lucky."

"Shit," Dean complains as he pulls the cut edge of her t-shirt back, revealing the deep stab wound just above her shoulder blade. "She's gonna be pissed, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Laraje brushes off. "She already has a million scars, what's another one."

"No, you ruined her Van Halen t-shirt she got from her father," he informs her, knowing just how much sentimental value the item has for Lizzy. "She loves this thing."

"Oh, I'm  _so_  sorry," Laraje sarcastically remarks. "You gonna fix this up or what?"

Dean sighs. It didn't look great but luckily it appears that the knife wasn't too big. He opens the bag and pulls out everything he needs.

"Why are you letting me do this?" Dean questions her motivations. "I mean, this is like a scratch to you. Probably doesn't even hurt, so why bother?"

"Because when I'm gone, this thing with bleed like a bitch," she informs him, clearly trying to earn his trust. "I told you before and I meant it. I just want to talk. You talk to me until I'm satisfied and you get your girl back."

"Just talk?" Dean challenges her. "Sounded like you did more than just talk down there."

"Ok, then I just want to talk to you. Anyone else is fair game if they try to interrupt."

"I still think this whole situation stinks to high hell," Dean comments as he soaks a gauze pad with antiseptic. "You have a reason for doing this. I know you do."

"Wow, that GED of yours is serving you well," she disses. "Of course I have a reason. Why bother with all this fucking hoopla if I didn't. Do you know how hard it is to get a storm this huge going? That took work, buddy boy. You should be more impressed."

He cleans her wound, noting that she doesn't even flinch with the sting of the antiseptic. "You created a freakin' blizzard just to talk to me?"

"And to keep you isolated while I did," she explains. "Though now I think that it isn't working so well. That grumpy bastard you consider a father-figure sent reinforcements. Should have seen that coming."

"Hey, I got friends in low places, darling," he quips while prepping a needle to stitch her closed.

"Looks like it. But this just lets me know I'm running out of time."

"How so?"

"You're going to tell me you haven't assumed that Sam's on his way by now?"

Dean stays quiet while he pushes the needle through her smooth skin. The thought had occurred to him of course but he's kept it to himself. No need to let the demon in on it.

"I swear, Dean, you say way more with your silence than you do with your actual words," she huffs while shaking her head and reaching over to one of the pictures that fell off the wall with Dean's efforts to break free.

"Stay still," he tells her as he continues his work. She doesn't listen as she sticks the photo once more onto the cracked door for both of them to see. Lisa Braden. Dean swallows hard.

"I figure that since our time is running low we should really try and finish things up here so that I don't have to fight off Andre the fucking Giant when he gets here. Next up, the lovely Lisa Braden."

* * *

Sam's inching closer to his destination with every second that passes but the closer he gets, the more impatient he is to just be there. The time it took to get to where he is, which is now over twenty-four hours, was excruciatingly long and the slick roads were not helping. Luckily for him, he's been able to travel on mostly busy roads for nearly the entire ride and Lizzy lives not too far off of a major highway. This means that his path has been pretty clear with frequent visitations by plows and salt trucks. He'd expected much worse.

Then he had to turn off the highway. Sam knew he was in trouble when he could barely make out the boundaries of the highway exit ramp. It took close to an hour to travel the usual fifteen minutes to the place Ruby agreed on meeting him.

Now that the steeple can be seen through the near white-out conditions surrounding the small car, Sam allows himself the joy of a quick smile. He actually made it, got to their meeting place and with the car still up and running. It's a mere couple more miles now between him and Lizzy's apartment and at this point that seems like nothing.

He parks in front of the front steps of the church. Why she suggested a church to meet at, he has no idea but the irony certainly doesn't go unnoticed. He cuts the overworked engine and waits, eyes scanning the parking lot for any movement in the bright blanket of snow surrounding him.

"Fuck, come on, Ruby!" Sam complains to himself, impatience once more getting the best of him. As if she had heard him, the passenger door flies open and the petite demon lets herself in.

"Alright, quick. Let's do this," Sam says to her with eager eyes. She scoffs at him in return.

"No foreplay this time?" she smiles while reaching into her back pocket.

"I got to go Ruby!" he shouts to her, knowing how important every second is.

"Here," she says, handing him a silver flask. Sam looks down at it, the small size fitting with ease in his palm.

"That's it?" he complains loudly.

"It's enough," Ruby tells him, annoyance on full display. "I'm not a machine, Sam. The human body can only lose so much and still function, even with me in it."

Sam sighs and moves to unscrew the cap. Ruby holds her hand out to stop him.

"Wait until you get there," she explains. "It'll be enough, just as long as you down it right before you go in guns a blazing."

"Ok," Sam understands. "Thanks, Ruby."

"Don't be stupid, ok?" she warns. "Laraje is strong. Just go in, do what you do best and get it over with. Don't hesitate."

"I won't," Sam tells her, pushing the flask into his back pocket.

"I'm serious. You flinch, she'll take the opportunity."

With that Ruby opens the car door again and leaves him alone. The door closes loudly and Sam turns the key in the ignition to head out. The engine sputters but refuses to turn over. He wrinkles his brow with confusion and tries again, getting the same struggling sound as the car just can't seem to start.

"No," Sam mutters to himself. "No, no, no." He tries one last time, knowing it won't start, and gives up with a fist punching into the center of the steering wheel. The horn blares with the impact and never stops. The sound is loud, accosting his ears with the grating pitch. Just what he needed.

"Fuck this," he declares while making an executive decision. The rest of his trek will just have to be on foot. He's made the drive before and knows where he is going anyways. He reaches for his duffel in the back seat and gets out of the obnoxiously loud car. The snow pelts his face, the wind whipping and biting at his skin. Popping the trunk, he grabs a second duffel packed with all his weapons and makes sure the trunk is absolutely empty. He's never coming back to this shit box on wheels, so he ensures that he leaves absolutely nothing behind.

A duffel slung over each shoulder, Sam walks away from the blaring car and heads down the street that leads right to Lizzy's apartment. His feet move as fast as they can, the pull of just knowing something is wrong still making him move with intent.

* * *

"Almost done," Dean tells her as he starts to tie off the last stitch. He asked her to wait just a little longer to begin the Lisa discussion so he could concentrate on not fucking up Lizzy's shoulder. She had informed him quite rudely once that he sucked at sewing people up, but that was when they hadn't talked for a year. He most likely shouldn't have taken the remark so seriously with how much anger she had been harboring for him, but ever since then he's taken extra care when stitching wounds.

"Good," she responds. "Then you can start telling me all about the one that you let get away."

"Lisa's not the one that got away," Dean tells her with confidence, cutting the black string and picking up more gauze to clean the now fully closed stab wound before covering it up. Lisa was not in his life for a reason, a good one.

"You certainly used to think she was," Laraje reminds him.

"That was before I met Lizzy," he says, realizing he's either said or thought this same phrase several times throughout this overly long conversation. "She definitely changed that."

"How so?" the demon pries.

"When I bargained away my soul I made the decision to leave Lizzy alone. I couldn't bring myself to face her after it was done and  _she_  became the one I let get away. At least for a while."

"But I thought Lizzy understood you better than anyone else in the whole wide world?" Her over the top, condescending attitude lets him know she's messing with him.

"She does, smart ass, and I'm sure now that I completely underestimated her," Dean says while taping down the large gauze square. "I thought at the time that the disappointment she'd have in me would be crushing for both of us and my sticking around would just make matters worse for her. I couldn't let her down like that so instead I ran away."

"And once you ran away from her, you ran straight for…." Laraje turns so she can see him out of the corner of Lizzy's brown eyes, waiting for him to finish the statement for her.

"Lisa," he says, knowing that Lizzy heard him loud and clear. It was a scumbag move and his guilt was immense for doing it. He never told her about Lisa for several reasons, all of which are surely about to be put out in the open.

"Lisa," she immediately echoes. "You still thought about her, didn't you?"

"Yes," Dean answers.

"Why?"

Dean sighs as he keeps working on her shoulder. "I don't know. I mean, Lizzy is everything for me and in all honesty, Lisa didn't make me nearly as happy as Lizzy does."

"Then why couldn't you let go of the woman you only had a weekend with… all be it a very, um, busy weekend."

"Done," he informs her, last edge of dressing taped down, letting her know she's patched up and in doing so he avoids her comment. Laraje scoots around to face him.

"Tell me the truth," she grins with a look in Lizzy's eyes that makes him cringe. "Who's a better fuck; Lisa or Lizzy?"

"Can't compare the two," he says quickly, looking down at the medical bag and packing it back up. Anything to avoid her as much as possible. "They're too different from each other. Different styles."

"Oh, come the fuck on," Larage loudly complains. "You know the answer. You just don't want to say it."

Dean pauses and breaths deeply. This is by far not something he wants to discuss, especially with Lizzy listening.

"Once again, he's speechless," she taunts. "Doesn't matter though. You already answered the question without a single word."

"No I didn't," he tries to clarify. "Lisa was a physical match for me, but that's it. She was just really fun but there wasn't much else there. With L it's different, it's meaningful, it's more than just sex with some usable chick. Lisa and I didn't have that, even if she used to be the bar I had set for myself. We spent the weekend holed up in my motel room and then I left. The only reason I went back to her was because she has been the only woman who could even hold a candle to Lizzy in any single aspect. I didn't want anything more from her than a repeat of that weekend to try and help me forget about how good I used to have it with the one person I wanted." It was the truth, he just wanted a way to erase Lizzy's hold on him, or lessen the grip at least. He was hurting horribly and needed help and this time he couldn't ask for it from her.

"That changed when you got there though, didn't it?" Laraje questions.

"Well, yeah. She had a kid and was in no shape to be spending time screwing away the weekend with me anymore."

"But she had something you've always wanted. She had this wonderful little life, complete with a house, a son, and an open spot in her bed. You could easily have filled it. Hell, she wanted you to."

Dean looks at her with disbelief.

"Please," she complains with his expression. "You knew that so don't pretend you didn't. You could be playing house right now if you wanted to. Bringing the rugrat to little league on Saturday mornings, mowing the lawn, sitting as a family at the dinner table, and then getting some of the best sex of your life every night. Sounds like a sure bet to me."

"First of all," Dean starts, his eyes narrowing onto the demon. "That is  _not_ where I belong. I am supposed to be right here, right where I am. Lisa wouldn't make me happy and I am not about to pretend that life doesn't totally suck any more than I already do every damn day of my life. Lizzy is where I belong. Where ever she is,  _that's_ my home."

"Shit, I almost believe you," Larjae huffs, surprised by his response.

"That's because I'm not lying," Dean assures, his jaw clenching with his anger. "Second, that isn't my life. That isn't my house, that isn't my girl, that isn't my kid. I don't belong there."

"Well, you're mostly right," the demon nonchalantly smirks while checking Lizzy's nails, playing it cool through the bomb she prepares to drop on him.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean asks, brow furrowed and worry creeping in with her statement.

"Well, that house definitely isn't yours and neither is Lisa. But Ben on the other hand…"

"Isn't mine," Dean growls back. "She told me herself."

"And it hurt to hear it, didn't it?" she pushes him. "Deep down, you were disappointed. That kid was just like you. He was an eight-year-old AC/DC fan who scammed on girls and looked like a perfect cross of you and Lisa. The two of you connected a little too easily and I know it left you unsettled. It never occurred to you that possibly Lisa maybe could have lied?"

Dean's expression softens as her words soak in.

"He's yours, Dean. Benjamin Isaac Winchester for all intents and purposes."

"She wouldn't lie like that to me," Dean tries to persuade himself. "She couldn't do that. She's a good person."

"And how would you know?" Laraje asks him. "You barely know that woman. How do you know she didn't lie right to your face because she didn't want her son to have an absent father who disappears all the time and lives out on the road? She was protecting Ben, just like any good mother would."

"Why did I let Sam talk me into coming here?" he mutters to himself. "I'm gonna kill him for this." Dean leans back against the wall behind him and bows his head. Screwing his eyes shut as the pain in his skull becomes worse once again, he sits with the information. Demons lie all the time. She has to be lying. Lisa wouldn't do this to him, never.

"I haven't lied to you yet, not once daddy dearest," the demon breaks in after seeing him struggle. She flicks the switch to turn the flashlight back on and stands up. "I'm gonna let you mull this over for a while. I think Lizzy needs a break from you right now anyways."

"Fuck," he breaths out, having forgotten temporarily that Lizzy was still listening.

"I'll see you in a few," she winks, satisfied smile firmly in place.

He watches the door slowly shut and the lock clicks into place. The sound of her footsteps fade and he sits in the silence, already mentally berating himself for everything. He just hopes with everything in him that Lizzy isn't going to leave him for all of this. Everyone important in his life has left him. His mother left him, his dad, even Sammy when he went to college. And now she's going to leave him too and this time it's all his fault. Totally and completely his fault. What he'll do without her he doesn't know. He can't even process the idea fully.

"Fuck, fuck , fuck," he mumbles into his hands as he buries his face into them. This is a disaster.

* * *

Sam estimates that he's about halfway there. The snow saturates his hair as it lands on him and drips down into his eyes now and then, making him wipe his face every so many steps. The sidewalks aren't plowed yet so he's forced to travel in the street, speed walking while concentrating on not slipping on the snow caked pavement.

Exhausted isn't even the word for what he is right now. Over a day of constant driving and his emotions running the gamut, his body struggles to get him to his destination. Legs weak and brain foggy, he keeps at it. Sam thinks briefly that if he gets there and the two of them are watching a movie or banging on the couch, he might just kill them himself. But chances are he knows that isn't what's happening. He can just feel it in his bones, in his soul, that something is still horribly wrong. It's always been that way with he and Dean; they can somehow tell when something is wrong concerning the other.

"Shit!" Sam yells when he loses his footing and slips, his feet sliding out from under him and causing him to fall hard onto his back. He groans with the pain, the heavy and packed snow doing nothing to cushion his landing. Breathing deeply, he gathers whatever strength he has left in him and pushes off the ground, his back protesting all the way. Once standing, he gathers his bags and checks his pockets, his back one now empty. "No."

Panic flashing in him quickly, Sam scours the white snow surrounding him as he frantically checks all his pockets to be sure. "No, no way…." Coming up empty handed, he realizes the flask has dropped in the snow. "Fuck!" he shouts while dropping to his knees and begins digging. He needs that flask, it being the only solid weapon he has to offer.

The wet snow now seeping into his clothes, he grows colder by the minute being outside in the driving storm but he continues to dig. He won't give up until he finds it.

"Come on, where the fuck are you?"

Minutes go by, his digging slowing with his lowering hopes. He can't find it. He lost his best chance at getting Lizzy out of this whole situation alive. That was all he had to offer. Damn it!

Sitting back on his heels, he pauses with his eyes closed. He's desperate once more.

"Please, somebody help me," Sam says quietly in the middle of the road, the air around him quiet aside from the wind. "I just need a little help here, please." He sighs and opens his lids. As soon as he does, something catches his eye as it briefly gleams amid the snow. The shiny silver metal just peeking out from the white catches some unknown source of light, glinting brightly enough to capture his full attention. Eyes wide with surprise, Sam greedily grabs the suddenly visible flask and stands back up. Once the blood it tucked safely away again and bags are over his shoulder, Sam starts trekking down the road once more, this time with a renewed sense of determination.

"Thank you," he says to whatever it was that decided to lend a quick hand to him. "Thank you." Unsure of what to think about the whole incident, he instead focuses on the task at hand; get to Lizzy and Dean.

* * *

 


	17. He Comes (Back) From a Land Down Under

* * *

"I'm done," Dean informs her as she once again opens the closet door to check on him. "I don't care if you aren't, but I am fucking done talking."

"Acting like you have a choice here," she comments, leaning Lizzy's back against the hallway wall across from Dean, crossing both her arms and legs while peering in at his pathetic, slumped body language. "We're almost finished anyways."

"Don't care," Dean spits back, empty whiskey bottle in his hand. Between the Vicodin earlier and the alcohol, he's got a minor and exhausted case of booze balls going. "Give her back."

"Can't. Not just yet," Laraje simply responds, pissing Dean off more with her relaxed attitude. His anger quickly morphs to desperation when he looks up at Lizzy's face across from him, so familiar but still so heartbreakingly foreign.

"Please," he quietly begs, eyes drawn to his hands once more as he can't look into her face any longer. It hurt too damn much. "I probably already lost her, alright. She's going to leave me after all this so you did your job. Just let her go and leave us alone. Please."

"Oh come on. You're in the home stretch, my friend."

"Not your friend," he tells her lowly and through gritted teeth.

"Just two more people left," she tells him while pushing off of the wall and stepping towards him. She reaches into the closet, Dean watching her movements closely as she picks up the two pictures they hadn't discussed yet. She places them on the floor in front of him, the two faces staring back up almost tauntingly. "Then you'll never hear from me again. Promise."

"I have to know why," Dean says to her as she backs out of the closet once more and sits across from him. "Before making me spill anymore of my fucked up, daytime soap of a life, I need to know why you are doing this."

"That answer is very much tied in with these two people we still have to discuss." Laraje looks at him with a new expression he hasn't seen from her yet. If he didn't know she was a demon he'd swear she felt bad. "And now that you're kind of drunk it should be easier, right? Upside."

"Whatever," Dean mutters sadly while staring at the empty bottle he's rolling between his fingers. "It takes a lot more than this to get me drunk, sweetheart."

Laraje sighs heavily. "I would be a high functional alcoholic too if I'd been through the life you have. It's been more than any person should ever have to go through and I do sympathize."

"Lucky me," Dean grumbles. "My life is so fucking shitty that I earned myself the pity of a demon."

"What I'm trying to do here is help you."

"Why the fuck would you want to help me?" Dean looks up at her with suspicious eyes. He's yet to figure out her angle and the thought that she wants to help him doesn't sit well at all.

"Why are you so surprised by this? I'm not the first demon to be on the Winchester's side," she reminds him.

"Right," Dean says to his empty bottle once more. Ruby has been their 'ally' for a while now. Stranger things have happened.

Larage points down to the picture on the left. "You keep telling me how much you love her, how much you need her, how she's different from all the rest, blah-blah-blah, but why? Why do you love her? Why is she the one you need so badly?"

Dean peers at the picture, her bright toothy smile and that beautiful spark in her eyes so clearly displayed. He then looks to the woman in front of him, tight-lipped grin and blank stare making her look like an entirely different person. He misses her so badly it hurt.

"I'm not a good person," Dean quietly says to the demon.

"Why do you think that?" she asks, going along with him.

"Because I'm not," he answers back quickly, clearly believing what he's telling her completely. "I've made some bad decisions in my life."

"Like?"

"Doesn't matter," he brushes off, hoping to keep his biggest secret from Lizzy until he can tell her in full person. "But no matter what I've done, Lizzy has always looked at me differently than everyone else does, than I do my own self. When she sees me, she only sees the good, whatever little actually still exists in there."

"And what do you see in yourself?" Laraje leans forward in fascination.

Dean sighs. "I see a seriously fucked up person who's done some awful, unspeakable things."

"Why haven't you told her?" Laraje simply asks, eyes trained on him as she watches his body tense with the subject.

He knows what she's asking and stares down at the empty bottle once more, hesitantly answering while praying she won't elaborate and spill the truth about his time in hell to Lizzy. "Scared."

"Of?"

"She won't view me the same," Dean explains, his heart hurting already. "L has always looked at me with this thing in her eyes. It's, like, hopeful and, I don't know, warm. It makes me feel like, yeah, I'm not all bad. Like maybe I am a good person since she's so damn sure that I am. She's loved me without question and with all that she has from the jump and I'm going to lose that when she finds out. It won't be the same."

"But holding all that from her seems unfair," Laraje tells him. "She deserves to know exactly who she's trusting her heart with, don't you think?"

"No," Dean says, knuckles turning white with his frustrated grip on the bottle. "Not yet."

"Then when?"

Dean looks up at her with fire burning behind his eyes. "When I can be alone with her, and at a time when I can talk to her face to face and without you tossing in your two cents."

"I don't know, Dean," Laraje comments. "She's climbing the walls in here with curiosity. I think we should let her know now."

"No," Dean sternly growls, getting angrier with her threat.

"Yes," Laraje argues. "It will be like ripping off a Band-Aid." Laraje closes Lizzy's eyes.

"Stop."

"Lizzy, honey…"

The empty whiskey bottle sails through the air, whizzing by Lizzy's head and smashing just to the right of her ear. Laraje jumps with the explosion of broken glass and whips her head back to Dean, Lizzy's eyes going black and eyebrows dropping with fury. Quickly she holds her hand out in his direction. "Sit still!"

Dean suddenly finds himself pressed into the wall and immobile again. Throwing the bottle at her was a terrible ide, but instincts took control and the glass was airborne before he could stop it. He watches and listens as Laraje keeps talking to his horror.

"Lizzy, there are some things you don't know about Dean and his time in the pit."

"Don't do this!" Dean demands as she continues talking.

"Every day here in the real world was equal to over a year in hell. And every day, every single one for several years straight, Dean was given a choice." Lizzy's eyes are closed once more but her hand remains outstretch, keeping him in place.

"Just… don't…" Dean tries desperately.

"He could keep going with the status quo, experiencing unimaginable torture nonstop for twenty-four hours, or he could make the pain finally stop if he began doling it out on other souls. If he became the torturer, he'd be spared."

"I let her down," Dean breaks in. "I promised her I wouldn't let them get to me."

"But you did, didn't you?" Laraje asks, popping Lizzy's eyes open and peering at him with excitement. She drops her hand and frees him. "You gave in."

"I said yes," Dean admits, his life-worn eyes looking older than usual with the internal anguish it causes him. "They used her against me. I couldn't do it."

"They used your weakness for Lizzy to get you to agree to their offer," Laraje adds, making it clear to Lizzy just how bad her effect on him can be. "They used her image to trick you."

"I thought she was down there with me," Dean explains. Looking up at Laraje he sees her softened expression return. It once again makes him feel like she has sympathy for him. He props his knees up with his feet on the ground and leans his elbow on them. Bowing his head to avoid her stare, he continues. "She was… being hurt, she was suffering right in front of me and I didn't know if it was real or not. I saw her cry in pain, heard her scream for my help, saw her flesh being stripped away piece by piece. I was told that if I agreed to hurt others she'd be set free, her soul returned topside. I broke. Lizzy's own pain was the worst thing they ever did to me. I'd rather be sent back to the pit than every go through that agin."

"So you agreed," Laraje finishes. "You picked up the knife for her freedom and safety."

"I said yes. I…I started to tor…" His voice disappears when the word torture dies on his tongue. He couldn't manage saying it. Tears threaten as he swears he can feel her heart breaking with his admission. "L, I'm so sorry," he whispers, a single tear making its way down his face.

"For ten years, a full decade, you ripped through souls with pure abandon. You tore and slashed and mutilated… and did it with a smile. You enjoyed your time, didn't you, Dean?"

Dean keeps his head lowered, tears falling onto the wooden floor silently as he becomes more and more convinced that he's losing her. How could he not? She'll never view him the same. She'll never think of him as the good person she used to. She'll never be able to stay with a person who's done such abominable things.

"How is it," Laraje begins to ask, "that a man who has committed his entire life to helping others at the expense of his own safety and happiness could so easily take to doing the very opposite?"

"Anger." He didn't even need to think about the answer.

"Anger at…" Laraje keeps nudging.

"Everything," he admits. "I was angry that my parents were both dead. Angry that my brother is a fucked up mess and it isn't his fault, he doesn't deserve any of it. Angry that I couldn't be there to help him deal with it either. Angry that Lizzy was alone and I couldn't see her anymore, even though I thought of her every fucking day I was down there. Angry that life handed me this perfect person who actually wanted me as much as I wanted her and then took her away. Angry that I had to sell my soul for Sam's in the first place. Angry that… my life sucked so fucking much."

"And you wanted others to feel what you had been through, to understand your plight," Laraje sums up to which Dean nods his head in confirmation.

"It was selfish." Dean can't lift his head from its place, too ashamed to look Lizzy in the eye. "I told her I'd stay strong, I promised, and I couldn't do it," Dean adds, his guilt crushing his soul.

"That's what love does to you," she explains. "It makes people weaker and preoccupied. Dean, you don't have time in your life for this shame. You need to move on, play your part in this life without Lizzy tagging along and worrying you, guilting you."

"I know," Dean tells her truthfully. "I swear I never wanted this to happen but I can't stay away anymore. I have to have her in my life. It's just this thing inside me that keeps telling me I need her, that this is right. For her own sake I wish I could back off but now she's a part of who I am. I can't make that stop."

"But your love for one person is very negatively affecting another person in your life," Laraje crawls over to the closet door opening. "You've known this person your whole life. You've been devoted totally to this person and you've been everything a good soul mate should be to them." She reaches into the small room and taps her finger on the last picture, the one that still confused Dean the most.

"But," Dean starts and pauses while looking at the very familiar face under shaggy dark hair she's pointing to. "What does Sam have to do with all of this?"

She looks up at him, her almost sad eyes showing up once more. "A lot more than you think, apparently."

* * *

He can finally see it. Bright blue paint with white trim. Lizzy's apartment. Huffing a breath of relief that comes out in a white cloud through the cold air, that drive, that internal push comes back in full force. Sam starts sprinting down the street, just three houses away from his long awaited destination.

As he squints through the falling snow to keep the flakes out of his eyes, he studies the building. Everything looks quiet, calm, and normal. The lights are on in her second floor apartment though he doesn't see any movement through the windows.

Sam checks his back pocket for the millionth time since his slip, ensuring that the little silver flask is still there. It is and he begins mentally preparing himself for whatever he might find once he gets inside.

* * *

"Have you noticed that with every conversation we've had about every single woman in your past you've brought up Sam?"

Dean wrinkles his brow and looks at her with sheer confusion. Had he really done that?

"Sam being left alone when you lost your V-card, how Jo is like both you and Sam's little sister, how he was at college when you met Cassie, how you're going to kill him for letting you come here alone when talking about Lisa… which isn't his fault by the way. You just got lucky that he cares that much about you and your sanity that he'd send you off to try and sort through your issues."

"So what?" Dean disputes. "He's been the one constant in my life. He's my fucking brother."

"And most people aren't so attached to their siblings. You and Sam have a much stronger bond than typical brothers do."

"Of course we do!" Dean returns with sheer annoyance, sitting up taller at her accusations. "We've never had anyone else! Our mother died, we were on the road all the time with no opportunity for friends or stability. We only had each other to cling to for almost our whole lives!" The fire builds in him.

"You two have had a unique experience in life," Laraje agrees.

"Unique?" Dean says with disbelief. "More like cruel."

"Unwarranted," Laraje adds. "But no one gets the luxury of choosing the path their lives take. Their paths choose them and it's how they react, how they conduct themselves while walking down it that matters."

"What the fuck are you talking about!" Dean shouts to her, his mind tired, his head still hurting, and his patience worn beyond thin. "What does any of this have to do with me and Lizzy?"

* * *

Clumsily climbing over the very large snow bank in front of the walkway, Sam skids over the slick ice on his way to the screened-in porch door. He carefully pulls the cheap sheet metal door open and eases it closed behind him, making sure that it latches back in place without a sound. He doesn't want this demon that could still be inside of Lizzy knowing of his presence any sooner than she has to.

He surveys the front door, very quickly spying the small trickle of thick, red liquid trailing from under it. Blood. Not good.

Sam walks quietly up to the door and peers through the stained glass window in it. On the floor he can see two motionless bodies. The hunters that Bobby had sent out he assumes. With a pained look he shakes his head, sad to see he couldn't arrive in time to stop it from happening.

Pulling out his lock pick, Sam gets to work as quietly as he can.

* * *

"You need to walk down your path the right way," Laraje adds. "You need to navigate this life with your one and only soul mate, no one else."

"I'm not cutting out my own brother!" Dean loudly rebuts. "No fucking way. If this is what you've been trying to do this whole time, then you fail."

"Such a fucking idiot," Laraje lets out exasperatedly to herself. "Holy shit, you live in total denial, you know that? I'm not telling you to ditch Sam, you moron! I'm telling you to ditch Lizzy."

"What... the fuck… are you talking about!" Dean's confused to say the least, and angry with the circles she talks in.

"Lizzy is not your soul mate," Laraje tells him. "She never was. Sam is your soul mate, Dean. The only one who's meant to be with you throughout. The one person who can truly, totally understand you."

"That's fucked up," Dean states. "He's my brother. He's not my soul mate."

"I think you have the wrong idea on what a soul mate actually is," she clarifies. "It's about love in general. You would do anything for Sam at the drop of a hat, you even sacrificed your own soul for him. You raised him from childhood and kept him healthy and as happy as a kid of a hunter can be. The worst moment in your life was the day you found out that Sam wouldn't be with you every day anymore. It crushed you."

Dean lets the memory wash over him and the helpless despair as he watched Sam pack what little belongings he had comes right back. She's right. It was the worst day of his life. It hurt more than anything else ever had.

* * *

Sam reaches down and checks the pulse of the face down, younger hunter with a glimmer of a hope, only to pull his hand away with disappointment. The older man was clearly already gone, his neck twisted in such a way that no person could survive. It's a mess, the gruesome scene a terrible omen for what he now expects inside the apartment.

He can hear Lizzy's voice now that he's inside the house and he very quickly realizes it isn't her with the words she speaks. She's talking about him, actually. The fact that he and Dean are… what? Soul mates? What is this bitch rambling about?

Blocking out her words, Sam pulls out the flask and takes another deep breath. He knows what he has to do for sure now. This demon is still wearing Lizzy and he isn't going to let that happen.

* * *

"You keep saying that you need Lizzy, but Dean, she doesn't need you. She'd survive without you. Sam would not." Laraje scoots closer to him, studying his face as she does. "It's a two way street with soul mates. They need each other equally. Sam would crumble without you, as your time in hell pretty much proved."

His eyes close, the strain of his thoughts being too much in the moment. "Can't do this anymore."

He feels her hand grasp lightly onto his and he opens his eyes again. Laraje is sitting what would normally be too close for comfort for a demon, but he for some reason feels safe. He lets her hold his hand as she talks.

"If you can, tell me that you don't believe me," she asks of him quietly.

"Can't," Dean whispers.

"This is all that I wanted, Dean," Laraje explains. "I wanted you to know the truth. You deserve that much."

* * *

Wiping the smudge of demon blood off of the corner of his mouth using his coat sleeve, Sam carefully makes his way to the stairs, doing his damnedest not to let them drop loudly on the hard surface of the floor.

One step at a time, his blood coursing through him rapidly with the added assistance, he listens carefully, not to what they talk about though. He's looking for an opportunity to get in and do what he must.

* * *

"Why?" he looks to her, vision blurred and eyes red. His face is long and pathetic, searching for a reason why the only good thing is his life is purposefully being dismantled. "Why do I have to know all this? Why can't I just be happy?"

"Because," Laraje starts quietly. "That is not your path in life."

"Why not?" Dean asks with desperation, trying to understand.

"She's going to be your motivation in the future," Laraje says. "And that can't happen."

"Motivation for what?" His eyes are wide, thoroughly lost.

"For the big show," Laraje simply states. "When the time comes, she's going to push you to do certain things, things that are not supposed to happen."

"Again, what the fuck are you talking about!" Dean begs loudly, his grip on her hand tightening to painful levels. "Just tell me! I've earned that!"

"Dean, you and your brother have a very specific…" Larjae begins but it cut off by the fluttering sound coming from behind her.

"I should never have left you two alone," Castiel says plainly as his silver sword drops down from his trench coat sleeve. He advances forward towards her and Dean panics.

"No!" Dean shouts before pressing off of the floor and launching forward into Castiel.

* * *

 


	18. In the Nick of Time

* * *

"No!" Dean shouts before pressing off of the floor of the closet and launching forward into Castiel. He forces the angel backwards and into the far wall as Laraje dives out of the way. "Don't! It's Lizzy!"

"I know," Castiel returns, staring down the demon as he does.

"You'll kill her!" Dean shouts out, his eyes catching the sight of the angel's blade again.

"I'm not going to kill her," Castiel glares at Dean with his assumption.

"Then I won't let you hurt her," Dean warns, standing a bit taller and readying himself to fend of the much more powerful being.

"Dean, get out of the way," Castiel calmly but seriously instructs as he begins to walk forward again.

"No," Dean stands his ground, remaining between the angel and the demon and pushing Castiel's shoulders back into the wall once more.

"Dean," he warns clearly in a threatening voice.

"You'll have to get through me first."

"Or," Larjae calls calmly over to the arguing men. "You could both knock off the macho showdown bullshit and just whip 'em out. I'd be happy to go get a ruler."

"Watch your tone with me, Laraje," Castiel issues over Dean's shoulder.

"Castiel?" Laraje questions with a pleasantly surprised grin while finally getting up off the floor and looking him in the face. "Holy shit, is that you? Walking among the lowly humans… and in one none-the-less. Nice choice, he's kinda cute. Chicks dig the whole sad man behind blue eyes thing."

"I told you to watch your tone," Castiel charges forward with his anger over her audacity but Dean moves to block his way again. "Move, Dean. Now!"

"No," Dean returns. "Just let her say what she needs to say and she'll leave."

"I can't let that happen," Castiel cryptically explains.

"Why not?" Dean asks with concern.

"Yeah, Cassie-poo," Laraje pushes with an exaggerated pouty face. "Why can't you let me tell the truth? Dean does deserve to know."

Castiel's eyes hone in on her. He pushes Dean aside by the shoulder, the human's body hitting the floor with force from the much stronger being and clearing the way for Castiel to get to the demon. He strides forward confidently, sword raised for battle but before he can reach her, Lizzy's eyes turn black and the demon clutches at her throat as she begins to choke.

They all snap their heads around to the top of the stairs. Sam stands there confidently with his eyes nearly closed and his hand outstretched towards Laraje as he attempts to exorcise the demon from Lizzy's body.

"You dick!" she shouts, coughing as she can feel herself gathering up within Lizzy and creeping out her throat. Her anger and refusal to give up that easily makes her strength go into overdrive. She lowers her head, black eyes still evilly trained on Sam with pure malice, and she gathers her right fist. Shooting her arm out and releasing her balled up hand, Sam shouts out when he feels the invisible impact. Looking down, he sees the new hole in his shirt, blood rapidly spreading outward from it as it soaks into his clothes.

"Sam!" Dean screams out when he sees the pained look on his brother's paling face. "Sammy!" He scrambles to his feet and runs to Sam's side, reaching him just in time to catch the hulking man as his knees buckle with the burning ache radiating from his stomach. The noises coming from Sam demonstrates just how bad the pain is.

Castiel starts to advance on the demon, his sword once again raised in threat, but Laraje doesn't blink. Instead she points to him accusingly.

"Castiel, you know I'm the only one who can patch that man up," she reminds as the angel stops dead in his tracks. "You kill me, you kill Sam and I  _know_  you don't want that. Stay put."

The angel just swallows hard and watches the demon turn to look at Sam and Dean, now on the floor of the hallway. Sam is sitting against the far wall, sweating and ghost-white while hunched over his side, and Dean is lifting Sam's shirt to look at the newly acquired wound. It's vicious looking, blood seeping out of the small hole her unseen arrow pieced him with and the surrounding skin is quickly turning an angry red color with the infection that is rapidly setting in.

"You're gonna be ok, Sammy," Dean lies, much like he always does when trying to calm his brother in the face of injury. "It's not so bad. You've had worse. You're fine." He jumps to his feet and runs into the nearby bathroom to grab a towel to stop the bleeding. After taking one out of the linen closet along with some other medical supplies Lizzy always smartly overstocks, Dean sprints back into the hall to see Laraje now kneeling in front of Sam.

"Get away from him," Dean growls out, his iron grip on the gathered items growing stronger with his anger.

"Don't make me slam you into yet another wall, Dean," she confidently returns. As soon as her threat leaves Lizzy's lips, Dean is already ignoring her fair warning and taking quick steps her way. Unsure of what he intends on doing once he reaches her, he just can't stop the need to protect his brother overwhelming him at the moment. He has to do something. Laraje sighs as she thrusts out her hand toward him. Dean is invisibly shoved backwards once more, sliding across the tiled bathroom floor on his back and stopping only when his body comes in contact with the bathtub on the other end of the room with a thud.

"How do you seriously never learn at all!" Laraje says in near disbelief to Dean. "Monkeys are smarter than you." She sighs with frustration before bring down her tone. She turns to face Sam and smiles. "Hi Sam. It's nice to meet you."

"Get out of her," Sam attempts to boom out, though it comes out in pants with the pain he feels. Even now, he's still more concerned for Lizzy than his own self. He leans sideways again as the wound in his side flares up, the burning causing him to struggle just to breathe.

"Not just yet, Andre," she says with a hand reaching out to him. Sam backs away violently, not wanting the demon to touch him, especially not with that suit it's wearing.

"Be wise with your actions, Laraje," Castiel warns from behind her still standing back and at the ready to attack if she doesn't play nice.

"Relax, Castiel," she calls back over her shoulder before returning to the injured man. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Sam. I just want to talk then I'll fix you right up. I promise." She winks at him and rests her hand gently on his cheek. As soon as her hand makes contact with Sam's face in such a loving way, Lizzy's eyes momentarily blow wide as her formerly calm and confident expression turns to shock. The familiar touch, the same thing Lizzy did numerous times to comfort all of her men in the past, pulls her forward from her exile and overpowers the demon's formerly unyielding hold. She scrambles away from Sam, scared of the very sudden change and looks sharply around the room. "Holy… shit."

Her head turned in the directions she asked it to. She had wanted to say 'holy shit' and her voice listened. She's taken back her body but she can feel Laraje inside of her, clawing away with fiery anger. She grabs at the sides of her head for a moment with the discomfort before adjusting to the unsettling feeling. Lizzy gathers herself and looks down at Sam's wound, his now blood covered hand pressed over it. Her face wrinkles.

"Oh fuck," she says while gently grasping his wrist and lifting his hand gingerly to see the mangled mess hidden underneath. His skin is already seeping and dangerously deteriorating. "Oh, Sammy. So not good." Her voice shakes, suddenly consumed with sorrow, and her eyes begin filling with tears over what Laraje did to him, over what Laraje made  _her_ do to him.

"L?" Dean confusingly asks while walking to the bathroom doorway as he hears her speak but in the moment he goes unnoticed. He watches the scene unfold as he's sure his Lizzy managed to break free. He knows the difference immediately, her tone of voice and her gentile demeanor giving her away.

Not exactly sure what to do, Lizzy goes with the instincts that are strongly pushing her from deep inside herself. She's never had a feeling like this before, the power of Laraje now surging in her soul as she listens to the directions that her body gives her, holding her hand out towards Sam. Quickly she presses her palm over the rotting wound in his skin and closes her eyes. She can actually feel the healing happening under her palm and it's then that Laraje begins seriously fighting back, stabbing her brain with vengeful ire. Screaming out at the sudden and growing pain inside her skull, Lizzy knows her temporary control is fading fast. She fights it with all she has to make sure she completes her task, needing to fix Sam before her window is gone and Laraje comes back. The wound finishes closing and Lizzy finally looks up to Sam, panic in her eyes while silently asking for help, before she blinks and those same eyes return to their formerly shiny black and devoid of life state.

"That bitch!" Laraje shouts her frustrations aloud once she takes back over. Snatching her hand back from the now perfectly healed skin on Sam's side, she stands up quickly. "How dare she!" Laraje punches the wall next to her, taking out her anger in any way possible. "Who the fuck does she think she is!"

"A Winchester," Sam answers back with a low and infuriated voice, thinking fast and with full clarity now that he's repaired. He once more holds out his hand to Laraje and closes his eyes. Focusing harder this time around to ensure Laraje can't fight back, he feels the demon blood rushing through him. Soon Laraje is falling to Lizzy's knees with the strain, the smoke pouring from her mouth and coating the floor in a thick black fog as it begins to burn through the hardwood planks. Sam keeps working, his nose trickling blood and his head practically splitting open with the effort. She's a stronger demon than he had previously expected, and he'd expected a lot. Lizzy falls over onto her back, eyes closed and unmoving, once Laraje is fully gone and shoved back into the pit. Sam falls backward, his weight once more leaning into the wall behind him, and tries to catch his breath and recuperate.

"Lizzy!" Dean shouts, fearing her still, slumped form and descending down to the floor by her side.

* * *

 


	19. Nobody's Fault But Mine

* * *

"Lizzy!" Dean shouts, fearing her still, slumped form and descending down to the floor by her side. On his knees, he checks the pulse in her unmoving neck and feels the strong beat still there. "Thank God. Lizzy, hey! Come on!" he calls to her, his hand cupping the side of her face and shaking it lightly. "C'mon, L! Open your eyes, please."

Lizzy cracks them just barely open with the sound of his voice pulling her out of the deep, dismal darkness. Blinking several times she's shocked when her eyelids actually listen to her. Attempting to lift her arm to test the waters, it moves. She's back, this time without a demon fighting away inside her mind. She breaths out a sigh of relief over the freedom she feels before turning her head towards that voice she knows oh so well.

"Hey," she whispers once she sees his green eyes looking down at her.

Dean picks her up and pulls her in quickly, clutching to her tightly as the wonderful alleviation washes over them both. She pushes herself up and climbs onto him, her arms around his neck and her head buried into his shoulder. They're a tangled mess as they reconnect after the ordeal finally comes to a long awaited end.

"Oh my God!" she cries into his shirt. "I hurt you! Your head!"

"Hey, I'm fine," Dean tells her, trying to reassure the overly worried woman.

"No!" she pulls back and reaches to the side of his head, running her fingers over the dried blood and cringing. "Shit. I can't believe I did that to you. I'm so, so sorry."

"It wasn't you," he quietly tells her, cupping her face in his hands just like she always does to him when she wants his full attention. Lizzy stops looking him over and focuses just on his eyes. " _You_  didn't do this. I'll be ok."

"I still feel like it's my fault," she says while her bottom lip quivers with her shame. "And what I did to Sam!" She tries to look around Dean's head to view Sam, to make sure he's ok, but Dean holds tightly to her, training her focus on him.

"He's fine too, all thanks to you," he tells her.

"The things I said to you, oh, God. It was awful. I couldn't stop her, I couldn't… ow!" It was then that the slice in her wrist begins stinging. She pulls it in to inspect it and sees the deep red stain on her white gauze bandage growing rapidly and at a terrifying pace. Now that Laraje is gone, nothing is holding her in one piece any longer. "Oh shit," she worries as she looks back up to him in panic.

Castiel walks forward from the place he stood to watch the whole drama play out and looks down at the scared woman, his blank face still in place. He moves in on her, two fingers extended to her forehead, and Lizzy instinctively shies away. The last time she saw him do this he made Bobby hit the floor in a split second. And, oh yeah, he just tried to attack her. Her trust in Castiel has been tested.

"It's ok," Castiel reassures her, touching her head and her wrist immediately stops bleeding. She looks down at the blood stain while it recedes until it's vanished. Lizzy quickly pulls back the bandage and finds her anti-possession tattoo in one piece, just like her skin. Her hand that she knows she broke when Laraje punched the wall and her stabbed shoulder all seem to feel fine now. Snapping her head up, she looks at Castiel with surprise and sheer wonder. She had no idea just how powerful he was until now. She gets up from her tangled position on the floor and stands before the angel.

"Thank you," she says quickly before wrapping her arms around him, Castiel remaining still with his arms by his sides, unsure of what to do. "I could have bled to death."

"Without medical attention, it was a certainty," Castiel confirms.

"We should have listened to you," Lizzy says pulling away from the now uncomfortable angel. "You tried to warn us but we didn't listen. Castiel, I'm sorry. I'll never take your words lightly ever again."

"I think that would be wise," he returns.

Lizzy backs away and looks around her apartment hallway. Wooden splinters scattered across the hardwood from the broken closet door along with bloody footprints that appear to be her size coming from the foyer downstairs. Sam, now standing up, is on the other end of the hallway, a complete jumble of emotions rolling across his face. She knows what he did, she saw everything, _felt_ everything, and now she isn't sure what to say or do concerning him. She's too in shock still to even process his insane ability he just demonstrated. Her eyes finally make their way to Dean, standing by her side. The dried blood cascading down the right side of his head makes her sick to her stomach as she's the one who put it there. The whole scene suddenly overwhelms her, the pressure of being in that apartment stifling her.

"I have to get outta here," she says quickly and her bare feet begin making their way down the hall.

"L, please stop," Dean reaches out and grabs her elbow as she passes, but she just pushes it off and keeps going.

"Can't be in here." She needs to get out, to get away from all the people in her home, all the evidence of what her possessed self did, and be alone with her thoughts.

She brushes past Sam without even looking up at him and reaches the top of the stairs. Lizzy takes one step down and freezes with the terror of the horrific site lying motionless in the foyer. Two bodies, so much blood.

"Oh my God!" she yells out as she backpedals clumsily and nearly trips over the top step. Sam catches her before she falls completely and hoists her back up by an arm. She looks up at him, mouth open but no coherent words form. "What…what…" She tries to ask him what happened, but Sam just pulls her into him. He knows he probably shouldn't. Most likely she's terrified of him right now after what he just did but she doesn't move. Instead she just stands, numbly letting him hold her while not feeling the comfort he attempts to give her. She turns her head to face Dean, her cheek pressed against Sam's coat and shakes her head back in forth when it all starts to settle in and the picture gets clearer.

"You don't remember?" Dean asks her, seeing the shock setting in.

"I did that!?" she questions while staring at him and pointing down the steps at the two bodies dead on the ground. The older man's dead eyes are looking back up the staircase as his head is twisted almost all the way around and the other, who appears to be younger, is lying face down in his own crimson pool. "Please," she closes her eyes as tears pour down her now very ghost-white face. "Dean, please tell me I didn't do that."

" _You_  didn't do that," he tells her honestly.

"But it was my hands?" she cries, eyes pleading with him for the gruesome truth.

"Yeah," Dean says with a pained expression and he watches her push away from Sam and her hand fly to her mouth.

"Oh my God," she says again, panic dripping from her words. "Oh my fucking God, I'm gonna be sick." She turns and runs into the bathroom behind her, making it just in time to empty her churning stomach into the toilet.

Sam gives Dean an oddly apologetic look before heading into the bathroom with Lizzy. He pities her, having been through this once before himself. It was horrible finding out the things he did while Meg was riding him. He was fully awake when he ended the life of that hunter with his own hands and he's at least happy that she doesn't recall actually doing the same. He kneels down beside her on the floor while she has her knees against the porcelain and her back hunched over the bowl. Sam gathers her long hair and holds it back for her. Then he pulls one of her hands away from the side of the toilet and grasps it in his own. She wretches over and over, the knowledge of what her body did making her sicker by the minute.

"I'm so sorry, Lizzy," Sam tells her. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. And I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner."

Lizzy grips tighter onto Sam's hand with his attempt at comforting her. She appreciates his efforts but it just isn't enough. She begins taking deep breaths and sits back on her heels once her sickness begins subsiding. "Oh fuck. Oh shit. Sam."

Sam lets go of her gathered hair and uses his now free hand to brush aside her bangs that are plastered to her forehead with sweat. His heart is heavy with not just the knowledge of what she's going through, but with what she now had to know about him. It's too much.

"I know coming from me right now it might not mean much, but I'm here for you," he explains. "I've been where you are. It's ugly and awful. You've always been there for me in the past. I just hope you can let me return the favor."

Lizzy just nods her silent thanks but when she looks up at him all she can see is Sam using his psychic powers on her. She bursts into tears suddenly at the thought and how scared for him it makes her. Covering her face in her hands, her sobs take over.

The reaction is nothing Sam could have hoped for and it devastates him. Even with her tears clearly springing from the sight of him, he pulls her over and, much like they had when he came to tell her about Dean's decent to hell months ago, she leans into him and cries from the depths of her being. Sam wraps supportive arms around her and lets her get out the overwhelming emotions over everything. He just wants to help her.

* * *

Dean stands in the hallway, eyes closed as he hears her crying and Sam's kind words drift out from the open bathroom door. He's lost in every aspect. Lost as to what to say to her, lost as to if he can get her to stay with him, lost as to what all this shit that Laraje told them even means.

"I think I will take care of the… mess before Lizzy comes back out," Castiel proclaims, sensing that Dean needed a moment. The angel begins walking to the stairs, ready to get to work, when Dean stops him.

"Wait," Dean quietly asks.

Castiel stands still and looks at Dean, waiting for whatever he has to say. The angel is still very mad at them, the two having been so careless and disrespectful, but even with his anger he can't leave, not just yet.

"I'm sorry," Dean says, sucking up his pride. "Cas, I'm sorry. L was right. We should have listened."

Castiel doesn't react. Instead he keeps his stone face in place.

"And, I owe you one," Dean adds. "She's everything to me and you saved her life."

"Yes, well, I was not about to let her die," Castiel states simply.

"Cas, what the hell is going on?" Dean asks with sadness and sheer necessity. "That demon said a lot of fucked up things. Why would it want to separate us? Why is our relationship a bad thing?"

"It's not a bad thing. Quite the opposite, actually," Castiel cryptically explains. "God's will doesn't always appear to make sense at first."

"So it's God's will for us to be together, not apart?" Dean tries to straighten out. "We  _should_  be together?"

"Yes, Dean. You should be with Lizzy. I believe you call it being soul mates."

Dean washes a hand down his face with a hefty sigh. The mind games keep getting played on him even after the demon is gone.

"Soul mates work in different ways for each person," Castiel tells him. "And with some people, some special, exceptional people that hold God's interests, they may have more than one soul mate."

Dean winkles his brow and looks to the open bathroom door, seeing Sam holding Lizzy as she sobs, and then looks back at Castiel, the information finally landing for him. His eyes blown wide with the revelation, he speaks in a low tone. "Both of them?"

"Yes. Consider yourself fortunate."

"Why do I get the special treatment from the big guy?"

"Have faith, Dean," Castiel answers, stepping forward and touching the wound on the side of Dean's head, healing it immediately. "There's a reason for everything. You need to believe. Your brother should by now."

"Why would Sam have faith?"

"Ask him about his travels here… and rest assured that this… slip up of his will remain between us." With that, Castiel disappears, the usual fluttering sound filling the hallway. Dean's relieved that Uriel and the other asshole angels won't catch wind of Sam's demonic indiscretion.

Dean stands still for a second before looking down the stairs. The foyer, thankfully, is empty and spotless. For the first time, he begins to see that Castiel may not be fully on the angels' side. He may just be on their side.

* * *

 


	20. In the Back of My '64 Mustang

* * *

After finally crying herself dry, Lizzy decided it was time to get out of the apartment. With everything that just happened she needed time away to clear her mind and straighten out her own emotions. The overwhelming urge to flee and run away from it all consumed her and, knowing she can't get far in the current weather, she settles for the solitary retreat of her… Lou's… snowed-in car.

Once she's gone, Dean and Sam are left alone in the now disheveled apartment. Both standing in silence in the hallway for a moment, they turn to each other, unsure of what to say. It takes a beat for Dean to find the courage and lose enough of his pride to speak.

"So, uh, I'm not saying I'm cool with it now or anything, but what you did for Lizzy, just, thanks Sammy," Dean quietly and sheepishly struggles out, hands in his pockets. Sam looks back at his brother with a sad look.

"Just trying to make good use of the fucked up shit I'm stuck with," he admits just as quietly. The room grows still once more, the silence deafening with the tension between them. Dean, needing to occupy himself through the awkward moment, goes into the kitchen to grab a trash bag. He brings it out into the hallway and begins bagging up the wooden pieces of door and the empty bottles, broken glass, and scattered pictures in the closet. Sam helps him and they work silently until Dean can't keep in his growing concerns to himself any longer.

"Man, I thought you were done with all that," Dean says to Sam in an annoyed voice while pausing his work.

"I was," Sam answers, hands filled with wood pieces. He had stopped exorcizing demons with his mind for a little while now. "Until just now, Samhain had been the only other time I've used it in a long time."

"So you only did that because it was Lizzy who was possessed?"

"Yes."

"You haven't been doing it here and there when I'm not around?"

"No! Dean, I told you I was done," Sam grows loud with frustration. "I heard Uriel's threat loud and fucking clear, alright?"

"Good," Dean relaxes a little, actually somewhat believing what Sam tells him. He holds open the trash bag and Sam drops what he'd picked up into it. "Because Cas saw the whole thing and you know what he thinks about your whole psychic crap. God too, for that matter…"

"Yeah, I don't think God hates it quite as much as the angels claim he does," Sam says matter-of-factly as he continues to gather the scattered remnants of the demon's visit.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean questions, bag dropped to his side and his free hand on his hip as he looks at Sam with utter confusion.

"I'm just saying that I get the feeling he isn't so against it, that's all," Sam cryptically explains without meeting Dean's eyes.

"This have something to do with Castiel telling me to about your trip here?" Dean asks and Sam finally pauses his cleaning to look at Dean with surprise.

"Why would he want you to do that?" Sam cautiously questions, having the distinct feeling that he's already aware of why. That flask sure did show up at an interesting time.

"I don't know, Sam," Dean says in a suspicious and bordering angry tone. "But he said to ask about what happened on your trip here and it having to do with your faith in God."

That confirms for Sam everything he already thought. He did get some assistance while struggling to find his flask, his only weapon, in the snow. Holy shit, God really is there. And he… it… is looking right at him. Creepy.

"Maybe he meant that I have faith after actually arriving here," Sam pretends to guess once the initial shock of reality settles a little. "Seemed at several points like I wasn't gonna make it, honestly. Not really sure how I managed in the end. Maybe I had God on my side on this one."

"No. I don't think that's it," Dean responds, not accepting the flimsy explanation Sam gave him. He knows there's more to it and he asks again more sternly. "What happened?"

"Fine. I was in a bind at one point. I slipped while walking down the street and I dropped the knife in the snow," Sam says, bending the truth just enough that Dean might believe him without having to share the truth behind what fuels his psychic power. "It was buried and I couldn't find it and considering it was one of the only weapons I had, I panicked. After digging through the snow for a while and coming up empty handed, I stopped and asked for help…"

"You prayed for help?" Dean questions, putting the story together.

"Yes. And when I opened my eyes, the knife was just kinda sticking out of the snow. I could suddenly see it again." Sam just looks at Dean and waits, knowing he'll get some kind of wise ass remark about how it was just a coincidence and that angels are dicks so God probably is one too.

"Huh," Dean simply says as he thinks the whole thing over.

"That's all you got?" Sam half smirks. "No God is a pissed off high school drama queen or anything?"

"I just don't know what to think anymore, Sammy," Dean admits while washing a hand down his face. "This whole thing has been so fucked up."

"When have our lives not been fucked up?" Sam says with a small smile, trying to find some way of bringing Dean back down from his current state.

"Good point," Dean huffs. "But why does everything have to keep getting worse. We always hit what I think is rock bottom, it can't possibly get harder or shittier, than the floor opens up and there's a whole new level of awful waiting for us."

"Dude, life sucks," Sam adds. "How have you not accepted that yet?"

"Oh, I've accepted it. Hell, I've embraced it up until now," Dean lets Sam know. "But this was over the fucking top, man. I can handle demons trying to kill me, I'm fine with that, but demons looking to generally screw with my life, ruin my relationship with Lizzy? That's too much!"

"Yeah, that is pretty messed up," Sam agrees. "But you and Lizzy are fine. You'll get past this."

"I don't know," Dean admits as Sam brings up his biggest worry. "She was told a lot of things she didn't know about me yet." He looks over at his brother with misery at the thought. "I wouldn't want to be with me, I can tell you that."

"She's very understanding," Sam says. "And she won't leave you, or us in general. After all, she can't, right?"

Dean simply wrinkles his brow, puzzled by what Sam says to him.

"Dude, the bathroom door was open," Sam explains. "I heard everything."

"Being soul mates doesn't mean she  _wants_ to be around me," Dean challenges. "Sometimes I don't  _want_  to be around you. You make me nuts."

"We're brothers," Sam reminds Dean. "We're supposed to get sick of one another. Dean, there's no way…"

"You didn't hear everything Laraje said," Dean cuts Sam off. "Some of it was tough, really tough."

"And so is Lizzy," Sam tells him. "She can handle it."

"I hope so, Sammy," Dean says while picking up more of the debris in the hallway. "I really hope so."

* * *

Bundled up in her heavy winter coat and snow boots, she trudges through the two feet of snow to the parking lot behind her apartment. Brushing off the door handle of Lou's Mustang, she pushes the key into the door to unlock it. She was desperate to get away from everything. It felt like she was being crushed by an invisible weight and she needed to be alone to do what she always did when things became too awful or too overwhelming; she needed to talk to best friend.

Once inside the cab, windows caked with snow so that the world was completely shut out, she turns the key in the ignition to get the car going. First she cranks the heat to warm up the small cabin. Then she plugs her IPod into the radio adapter, quickly popping on exactly what she needed to hear; the Crosby, Stills and Nash box set her father gave her on her seventeenth birthday. She loved it so much. Paul and Lizzy always found themselves bonding over their love of music and CSN was one band they agreed completely on. He even took her to see them when she was twelve and it is to this day one of her fondest memories. Listening to them made her feel like her father was still with her and that comforted her in times when she needed it, like right now.

As 'Haven't We Lost Enough' begins playing, she squeezes herself between the front seats and settles into the limited space in back. Lying across the seat, her knees bent to accommodate her height and her head resting on the ashtray ledge behind the driver's side, she begins talking to the roof.

"God damn it, Louie," she says while staring up at the tan interior, hands folded atop her stomach. "Everything is so fucked up. Ever since you left it's felt like one fucking fiasco after another. I'm lost, dude. So lost and without you around my life feels impossible. Jesus, I mean Dean went to hell, Sam went off the deep end, I'm pretty sure Bobby's a full blown alcoholic now, if he wasn't already before, and it's on me to keep everyone in line. But how do I do that? I know I put myself in this position, I made myself their little go-to chick, but shit, I can't do all of this. It's too much and I'm a total disaster myself."

Lizzy pulls out the Jameson bottle that had been tucked into her coat and twists off the cap. She raises the bottle to the roof while looking heaven-ward. "I fucking miss you," she tells Lou before chugging down several large gulps, looking for the numbing relief to come as quickly as possible. She wedges the liquor between her jean covered thighs and sighs loudly.

"So Sam's evil or something… or evil with a good heart, if that's at all possible. You'd die if you just saw what he did. He yanked that fucking demon right out of me with his stupid psychic crap. Louie, I never thought I'd say this in a million years, but he scares me. Scares me shitless." She tips the bottle up and drinks down another hefty amount before returning it to its tucked away place. "That sweet guy, the guy that I thought could never hurt a fly, the guy that was so timid when we first met him and totally intimidated by all ninety pounds of you is using demonic powers like it's nothing. When you died and Dean left, I did what I could, I tried so hard to keep him on the straight and narrow… what is he thinking? I wish you were here so bad. If he's gonna listen to anyone, it would be you right now. He always listened to you." She begins peeling at the label of her favorite whiskey while pausing for a moment to gather herself.

"And Dean, ha…" she shakes her head slowly and tips back another shot. "What the fuck do I do about us now? This demon tells us both that every woman in his life was planted there to mold him into the person he is right now. What the fuck does that even mean? And am I one of those? Is that the whole meaning of my life… to be Dean's girl and that's it? That terrifies me, Lou."

She feels the pools building behind her eyes at the thought. "It's so unfair. I love him so fucking much, you know I do. I can't stay away. I always have the insanely strong compulsion to help him, to make him better, to love him, and God, to fuck him. It's like a sickness. This is what drug addicts go through I think. Even with everything I've been told I can't leave him, I just can't, but Louie what the fuck do I do now?" she asks as she drinks more whiskey, reveling in the burn as the buzz begins to settle into her body. "I just need you here so badly. You always talked me through everything and made it all easier. I was always a better person when you were around." She closes her lids as the tears drop from the outer corners of her eyes. "Please, tell me you can hear me. Just this once. Let me know you're here with me when I need you the most. Please, Louie."

"She can't hear you."

"Fuck!" Lizzy shouts and jumps at the sudden intrusion. She jerks her head to the front passenger seat to see the back of someone's head. She recognizes the dark hair and tan trench coat immediately. "Fuck you, Castiel!"

"I assume that's an insult for surprising you," he simply puts without turning around to look at her.

"Sorry," she immediately apologizes. "You just scared the shit outta me."

"I understand," he explains, getting the picture by this point. The humans he is forced to deal with at this point seem to always be startled by his entrance. "I feel I should tell you that Louise cannot hear you. She's not around."

"That's probably a good thing," Lizzy comments while wiping the tears off her face, the heavy black eyeliner Laraje put on her smudging as she does, and sitting up. "I'd depress even the dead at this point." She takes another swig and taps the angel on his shoulder while holding the bottle out to him. After turning to see her offer, he just shakes her off and returns his focus straight ahead.

"So what brings you to my personal pity party?" Lizzy wonders.

"I wanted to explain some things before I left you."

"Can't I just get a recap from Dean?" she asks, wanting to be left alone. She knew the two of them had been talking in the hallway while she was a collapsed heap in the bathroom.

"I didn't tell Dean everything that I am about to share with you. I feel you deserve that much."

"First things first, though," Lizzy stops him. "Ah, what happened to the… hunters?"

"I took care of them," Castiel explains.

"What does that mean?" she questions with concern.

"They have been found in their home by the authorities," he explains. "An anonymous tip was called in. Seems they were attacked by an intruder."

"Thanks," Lizzy says, her words hollow as she bites back the sob dying to come out. "This makes me a terrible person, doesn't it? I mean, I'm a murderer now, right?"

"You are not a murderer," Castiel corrects.

"I killed them," Lizzy responds. "It was my body, my hands…"

"And it was Laraje's control," he interjects. "You did nothing wrong. You're innocence is intact. Try and find forgiveness for yourself in that."

Lizzy nods very slightly and takes a small amount of reprieve in what she thinks is Castiel's version of comforting words. It was sweet of him to try.

"Um," Lizzy begins while unclasping the necklace around her neck. "Could you get rid of this? Destroy it, make it disappear forever, scatter it into the universe, something?" She drops the Hand of the Etruscan into Castiel's open palm. He nods to her. "Damn thing is a curse if you ask me."

"I'd be happy to," he returns, closing his fist around the powerful item.

"Thank you." Lizzy never wanted to see that thing again.

"I told you before that you were special," Castiel begins to explain. "Someone of importance, and that was completely true. Most people are born out of sheer accident or out of what most humans mistaken for love. You, on the other hand, were no mistake. You were destined to be."

Lizzy groans with the information as she places the bottle of whiskey on the floor and drops her head in her hands defeated. The conversation very quickly becomes heavier than she can possibly be ready for. "Fuck, Castiel… you're killing me here. You telling me that it was fate for me to be born? My parents  _had_  to meet,  _had_ to have me?"

"Yes…" he simply answers while trailing off.

"And fate is real?"

"Yes."

"Like, meant to fucking be, predetermined future, free will is a crock of shit kinda real?"

"To a certain extent, yes."

Lizzy closes her eyes, her head beginning to hurt. "Well, at least I can take comfort in winning five bucks off of Dean then," she remarks, bottle back in hand and whiskey already pouring down her throat. Having told Dean that she believed it to be fate that brought them together several times in the past, she looks forward to saying to him 'I told you so,' even if she's terrified by the thought.

"You are not supposed to know what I am explaining to you," Castiel starts, "but Laraje unfortunately let you both in on the fact that you, in the future, will be the driving force behind some very consequential decisions Dean will have to make. That is all very true."

"So what's the decision? And the big show?" Lizzy asks, recalling Laraje's words. "What does that mean?"

"I cannot tell you that, not yet, but I can tell you this…" Castiel finally turns to face her, peering intensely into her eyes. "The love the two of you have is real and very genuine. This is something that most humans are never blessed with but God allowed you and Dean to have this gift. He wanted it for you. Laraje told you that Dean and Sam are soul mates, and she didn't lie. But in very rare, very uncommon cases, a person can have more than one."

"So what, we really are Romeo and fucking Juliet over here?" Lizzy asks and takes in Castiel's expression. He looks at her even more sincerely than before. "Crap. You're serious."

"Very," he says to her. "Elizabeth, you were meant to meet Dean. You're paths were always supposed to cross because true love has been bestowed upon you both. Soul mates are rare and Dean has not been given many gifts in his life. You should allow yourself to be one of his very few bright spots and not deny yourself all that he has to offer you in return."

Her reaction to Castiel's suggestion is the opposite of what would be expected. Most would be horrified by knowing that they'd been set up Blind Date style by God himself. Lizzy on the other hand looks at the whole picture, the really big picture, and sees the luck she's stumbled upon. True love. The genuine article. She'd been so sure for so long that what she and Dean had was beyond the norm and having proof makes her so happy and a bit relieved.

"Not sure I know what to say about this," Lizzy admits, the revelation of what her life has become still not setting in yet.

"You don't have to say anything," Castiel responds. "Just be prepared for the future. You have a lot coming your way and a lesser human wouldn't be able to handle it. I have faith in your strength and fortitude. Dean will need you to hold him up and I believe you will do it with grace."

Lizzy smirks with the foreboding yet complimentary words the angel shares. "I  _already_  hold his ass up on a daily basis and you know that. So I say bring it, Cas."

The angel nods his head and Lizzy swears if he had been facing her she's see an actual smile on his face.

"I apologize for burdening you further in such a trying time," Castiel says quietly.

"Don't apologize!" Lizzy nearly shouts, making Castiel widen his eyes briefly. "You warned us about all of this and we didn't listen to you. This was our dumb ass faults because we'd rather pretend we're allowed to have a vacation than be safe and smart. Like I said, I'll never take what you say to me lightly  _ever_  again and I mean it."

"I'm happy you say this," he returns, an almost smile on his lips. Lizzy reaches out her hand over the passenger seat and Castiel just looks at her confused.

"Give me your hand," she directs him.

"Why?"

"Because I asked you to," Lizzy says. Cautiously, he reaches out to her and holds on, body still and awkward with the unfamiliar contact. Her predilection for physical contact is an awkward thing for him. "Thank you for explaining what you did to me. It makes this whole thing have at least one positive outcome. And I trust you… even if you tried to kill me about an hour ago."

"My plan was never to kill you, Elizabeth," Castiel explains. "As you now know, it is necessary for you to be alive."

"Uh, comforting," she caustically returns.

"Yes, well, God has a plan," Castiel remarks with another tight lipped smile, looking curiously at their interlocked hands. "Why did you have to hold my hand to tell me that?"

"Because I wanted to," she smiles slightly with his lack of understanding. "I always do that with my other guys, Dean and Sam, Bobby sometimes too. Just felt right to do the same with you too."

Castiel looks at her with an interesting expression and Lizzy thinks that it might just be happiness or acceptance, but who really knows with him.

There's a knock on the passenger side door and Lizzy turns to see snow being brushed away from the window with a green coat-covered forearm. Soon after, Dean's face can be seen peering into the cab through the small clearing he made. Before she can even register who it is, she hears the fluttering of feathers and Castiel is gone, her hand now clutching empty air.

* * *

 


	21. In the Front of My '64 Mustang

There's a knock on the passenger side door and Lizzy turns to see snow being brushed away from the window with a green coat-covered forearm. Soon after, Dean's face can be seen peering into the cab through the small clearing he made. Before she can even register who it is, she hears the fluttering of feathers and Castiel is gone, her hand now clutching empty air.

Dean knocks again on the window and she sees in his expression that he's growing impatient through the small, frost-free circle as he stands out in the cold and snow. She unlocks the door and he opens it in a rush, diving in and yanking the door closed behind him.

"Fuck this weather!" Dean announces loudly with his arrival, shaking the snow out of his hair.

"Fuck that  _demon_ ," she corrects much more quietly while returning to her lying position across the back seat and taking up the bottle of whiskey again. She drinks more of the liquor before passing it between the front seats to Dean who, unlike the previous occupant, readily accepts it. He downs a solid amount in a few rapid gulps and sighs.

"You were smart to bring this along," he comments while sitting sideways in the seat, looking at her makeup smeared eyes and defeated demeanor.

"You know me," she starts. "I never go into any serious conversation without a little liquid assistance."

"Who were you talking to?" he asks, having thought she was alone.

"Louie," she informs him. "And Castiel. He stopped by." She stretches out a hand to take back her drink.

"What'd he have to say?" Dean wonders as the angel left him with only the bare minimum of explanations.

"Dean," she slowly starts, scared to actually ask, "What's going on with Sam?" It's her first priority even in a time when everything around her is crumbling. He's obviously in trouble and she needs to know what's happening with him first and foremost.

"Where the fuck do I begin?" he sighs as he swiftly takes back the bottle and guzzles the whiskey again.

"So his psychic shit didn't shut off after Azazel bit the big one I take it?" she asks, looking up and seeing the sadness he has on full displays.

"That it did not," he replies. "When I got back, Sammy was a different person. He's not talking much about it so all I know is that he's somehow found a way to turn premonitions into exorcising demons with his fucking mind. And he's been hanging out with Ruby behind my back, which if you ask me  _has_  to be related."

"What!" Lizzy bolts up in her seat. "Why the fuck would he do that? I don't understand!"

"Neither do I," he concurs. "But something big musta happened with those two while I was gone because he trusts her now. Probably more than he trusts me."

"Oh, that can't be true," she looks to him with disbelief, a hand dropped onto his shoulder. "You two are closer than close. He'll always trust you more than anyone else, you know that."

"Seems more and more likely that that isn't true." Dean's face reveals how heartbroken he is as he keeps his sights trained anywhere but on her. "Jesus, I feel like I'm losing him, L. He's disappearing at all hours, running around with a demon… he won't listen to me. He told me he's stopped with the exception of you just now, but I'm not sure I believe him. Fucking kid is convinced that what he's doing is good."

"How could he ever think that using powers from demon blood is a  _good_  idea? Sam's smarter than that."

"That's what I said! But he claims that most of the people he exorcises come out of it alive… kinda like you did." Dean looks over to her with new conflict. "Shit, I've had a hard enough time trying to convince him of how wrong he is. How do I still stand against this thing now when it saved your life? How do I tell him not to do it and not be a huge fucking hypocrite?"

Lizzy simply shakes her head in return. "I don't know, you just do. You have to because this very obviously isn't right. Sam should know better. And yes, his crazy whatever-the-fuck may have just saved my ass, but it doesn't change that  _I'm_  still fully against it." She steals another shot of booze. "What does Castiel think about this?"

"Cas knew way before I did. He's the one who let me know what Sam was up to in the first place. And side note, he's against it also." He grabs the bottle out of her hand and pulls down several gulps of whiskey. "So is God," he finishes while wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"GOD!" Lizzy nearly cries out, her hand now digging into his shoulder.

"Yeah, he's not cool with Sam's magic demon mojo."

"God?"

"The head fucking honcho, yes.  _The_ God."

"Holy fucking shit," she tiredly lets out, lying back down again. "I totally hate today."

"I'll drink to that," Dean comments with another sip.

Lizzy watches his expression carefully. Dean has always prided himself on his stoic demeanor in the face of adversity, but Lizzy knew the truth. She could see it all, every ounce of utter fear, each pang of guilt over not being able to help Sam, and all the hurt from growing further and further apart from his brother was chipping away at him. She sits up and removes the bottle from his hand, placing it down on the floor by her feet and weaves one of her hands into his own through the gap in the seats.

"We'll get him back on track," she reassures. "Whatever it takes, we will. We're not gonna let him do this."

She watches the flash of hope make itself known in his face.

"We?" he asks with slight surprise.

"Dean, I'm not leaving you," she says with sincerity. "I know you're worried about that, I can tell. You really shouldn't be. And you should know me better by now. I'm no quitter."

His anxiety slowly begins to melt away, the lines around his world worn eyes evening out with her words. He nods his head and a faint, barely there smile tugs at his lips as he washes his free hand over his face. "After all this, I… I thought for sure…"

"You  _know_  how much I love you," she interrupts him while climbing over the seats and into his lap. With her feet resting on the driver's seat, she brings her arms around his neck and sits on him sideways. "Just because some meddling bitch said too much doesn't mean I'm giving up. I told you I am in this fully and I meant that. I'm not leaving you, not ever."

Dean reaches his arms around her waist and takes the second to look at her, really look at her. Her chestnut eyes have their spark back and he sighs his relief to see it. They sit silently for a beat before Lizzy delves into more of their issues.

"You should have told me what happened in hell," she tells him.

"How?" Dean sadly asks while turning away and avoiding her stare. "What I did… I can't even bring myself to say it out loud in a mirror. Saying it to you? Fucking impossible."

"But it's eating you alive. I can see it, and I'm sure Sam can too. You can't live like this."

"What choice do I have?" he asks sadly as he feels Lizzy press her lips to his forehead. "Telling you about the horrific things I did… it would change us." His bottom lip quivers like it always does when his emotions threaten to topple him. "I'm a monster for what I did and you wouldn't think of me the same way."

"But I can help, Dean. The only way I can hold you up is if I know what's knocking you down," she tells him, pulling his chin up to get him to look at her again. "You always try to hold everything in, and maybe it's because you had to before, you had to be the one who kept it all together, but not anymore. Let me help. Please." Her eyes spill over, already feeling his pain as her own.

"You won't look at me like you used to though," he worries. Immediately she moves in and kisses him. Dean's heart races as it feels like her again, no longer empty and strange but inviting, warm and so familiar. It's her love for him at its purest. It's his personal version of home.

"Does it feel like I see you any differently?" Lizzy asks him once she ends their kiss and looks at him closely with a hand to each side of his face.

"No."

"Because I don't," she tells him. "You're only human and I think you forget that sometimes. People aren't perfect or impenetrable, and last I checked, they weren't built to withstand hell _and_ come back. Thirty years is a lot more than most, if not all, others could ever get through."

"But I let you down," he returns. "I promised I wouldn't break, but I did. I gave in and never looked back."

"Is that what you think? That you let me down?" Lizzy's face wrinkles in concern and sorrow as more tears fall. Dean nods slowly with his eyes closed in shame. "You didn't let me down, Dean. Not at all. I'm proud of you for being as strong as you were. Screw the promise. You did what you could and that's all anyone could ever,  _ever_  ask of you."

Dean doesn't answer, just keeps his eyes closed and lets her comfort in. It doesn't make the pain and crushing guilt go away, but at least the weight is lessening. It's a start.

"The idea that it was  _me_ that got you to give up though…" Lizzy starts but her voice gets cut off by her sadness.

"I wish you didn't have to know that," Dean says, the anger of what Alistair did to get him to agree to torture still burning deep.

"But I do know now," she says through her sadness. "And it hurts. A lot."

"Not your fault." Dean shakes his head, hating that she knows his weakness for her is responsible for his deplorable actions.

"Yeah, it's fucking God's fault," Lizzy says flippantly. "We  _are_  soul mates, after all."

Dean doesn't respond. He just looks at her with a strange expression for a second before remembering that Castiel had talked to her first. Lizzy stays put, watching his face and waits. She's unsure of how to read him this time.

"Alright, you gonna say it or not?" he asks with an exasperated eye roll, preparing for the inevitable.

Lizzy smiles slightly as she readies herself to enjoy the moment. "I told you so."

"So what, I owe you a beer now or something?" Dean quips, admitting she had been right about the two of them all along.

"Or something," she responds with a quick kiss. "You're much calmer than I thought you'd be with this. You're much calmer than I was. The soul mate thing doesn't scare you?"

"Oh, it does," he confesses. "I'm scared as fuck by this, but I'm just not really surprised."

"Neither was I," Lizzy adds honestly.

"My life is fucking weird," Dean comments. "I think I need time to get used to this."

"So do I, honestly," she says in return. "Look, Dean, through all of this, with everything I know now and with everything fucking with my mind too, I'm still ok. We all have our skeletons and you just happened to have a demon who wanted to spill yours to me all at once. None of it was so bad that I could ever walk away from this."

"Even if some of the stuff she popped the lid on is huge?" he reminds her. "Might affect your life too."

"Like what?" Lizzy wrinkles her face with confusion as she tries to remember anything Laraje said that would change her own life. Nothing came to mind.

"Were you there for the Lisa conversation at all?" Dean narrows his eyes at her. "I have a kid, and if you're sticking with me, that's a big game changer for you too."

"Oh, Hot Shot," Lizzy drawls out, eyes sympathetic. She runs a loving hand through his hair and sighs as she doesn't want to let him know the truth. "I'm sorry but Laraje lied to you. Ben isn't yours."

Dean stares at her in utter shock, eyes vast before screwing them shut with the rolling waves of emotional distress that just keep coming crashing down on him. "Is this mind fuck ever gonna end here? I'm getting a little tired of the rollercoaster," Dean exasperatedly tells her with his head hung low in defeat.

"She was just trying to do her job," Lizzy comments with a shoulder shrug and an odd understanding of what the demon was after. She presses her forehead to his. "The reason she came here was to ruin us in order to fuck with the plan heaven has and no matter how hard she tried you and I were both not bending in the least. We weren't falling for it. She couldn't break this. It was the move of a desperate demon and a wicked pathetic one at that. We fought Dr. Phil and we won, baby."

"And this is exactly why I need you," Dean says lovingly to her, a grin threatening at the corners of his mouth and holding her tighter. "You always know what to say. You always know what I need to hear to make my life seem like it's so much better than it is."

"It's part of the soul mate job description. It's in all in the handbook. You should really check it out," she smiles small, feeling the stress fade away as they sit alone and talk. "And seriously,  _you_ always know how to make me feel better too. You put me at ease just by sitting on your ass and talking to me. I honestly didn't think I would be able to calm down enough to stop panicking today, but after a little time alone with you I realize it's all ok. I got out alive, I'm with you, what more do I need?"

"Nothing?" he takes a questioning guess.

"Not a damn thing. As long as we have this, we can get through the rest," she says while pulling him into her until their lips meet. They bask in the ability to do this again, to be with the other without the intrusion of a demon making it empty and meaningless. The true connection they have is back, right where it belongs.

"We're gonna be ok, huh?" he interrupts their kiss, his hands running up and down her sides as he looks for assurance.

"Hot Shot, trust me." She cups his face, her usual move when she needs him to listen closely. "As you reminded me yesterday, I knew what I was signing up for when I met you. And lucky for you, I'm really fucking stupid."

Dean smiles at her comment. "That's what keeps you hanging around? Stupidity?"

"And addiction," she smiles jokingly… though only somewhat.

"What is it honestly?" he wonders to her, craving an answer that would explain why she'd always be there beside the whole soul mate label, and Lizzy's face grows serious again.

"I hang around because no one will ever love me as much as you do," she explains. "And that's just plain fact. And because I know I will love you until the day I'm six feet under."

"I hope you mean that," Dean says in return with hesitance. "Because the idea of losing you today was the scariest thing I've ever been through. I can't get through this fucked up life without you, L. I can't ever have you just up and disappear on me. "

“I do mean it.”  She kisses him again, deeper than before.  “I would never lie to you about that,” Lizzy confesses with only a quick break from his lips.  It makes her heart ache that he needs such reassurance, even after all they’ve been through.  He’s been abandoned so many times that it makes sense to her that he’d be so weary.  It may take time for him to see that she’s being truthful, but eventually he’ll understand. 

Dean weaves his hands into her long hair, knotting them tightly into the dark strands at the back of her head and holding her mouth against his as she moves to bring a knee to each side of his lap.  Once facing him, her hands grasp at the sides of his neck.  They both cling onto the other through the desolation of their ordeal and the need to cement that their relationship is still in place.  There is an air of anxiety about it, Dean possessively holding her throughout their kissing as if she’ll disappear if he doesn’t.  He’s not willing to lose her and he needs her to know that.  If either had been paying attention, they’d both find it fitting that ‘Helpless’ began playing through the car’s speakers.

“Never leave me,” he asks of Lizzy with his lips against hers and through his now heavy breathing.  Dejection is all she gets from him with his clearly troubled emotions.  Her heart now heavier than it was before, she kisses him again in an attempt to convey that she never will.  She’ll always stand by him and if she hadn’t been sure of it before, she definitely is now.  Letting go of her hold on him, she hastily loses her bulky winter coat and tosses it to the driver’s side before helping Dean out of his.  He reluctantly surrenders his grip on her to get the item off, but as soon as his jacket is resting on the back seat, his hands are once again on the back of her head, pulling her towards him and keeping her near.

“L, tell me,” he pleadingly asks while looking up at her.  She pauses, her brow furrowed with both the sadness and sympathy she feels for him in the moment as she connects with his green eyes.  It hurt so badly to see him like this she can physically feel the pull in her chest.  Lizzy moves in to kiss him again, to wash away the fear and questioning from him, but his hands tangle in her hair again and he stops her, pulling her back a bit.  “Please, tell me you won’t leave.”  His voice is stern now, more serious than before and his actions much less loving suddenly.  His desperation coming through in the form of aggression is what surprises her the most and she can see it clearly in his now darkened eyes.  She hadn’t seen it coming, but she understands it completely.  It takes her a moment to compose herself before she can get her own voice working again.

“I will _never_ abandon you,” Lizzy tells him truthfully through a shaky tone, his hands still in her strands and roughly holding her in place.  “Never.  I couldn’t and I don’t ever want to.”  She blinks several times, keeping the waterworks at bay, and prays he believes her. 

Dean quickly brings her in, their lips crashing into each other with her confirmation.  It’s harsh and bruising.  Lizzy reaches down the side of the passenger seat and yanks the lever, causing the back of the seat to drop.  Dean falls back with it into a lying position, pulling her along and never letting them separate.  The change puts them into action, making them move with quick need.  Lizzy’s hands find Dean’s belt in no time and, having done this many times before by now, has it open in the blink of an eye.  Pulling the button free and dropping the zipper of his pants, her hand seeks him out.  She wraps her fingers tightly around him and Dean grunts loudly with the sensation.  It wasn’t enough, however.  He needed more.  He needed all of her. 

Untangling his hands first, Dean grabs ahold of her waist and lifts her off of his lap, depositing her sideways into the driver’s seat.  Without a word, he pulls at her boots, tugging them off as fast as possible while Lizzy, being on the same page, swiftly sets to work on opening her own pants.  Her bulky shoes now haphazardly tossed into the back seat, Dean shoves his pants and boxer-briefs down, bunching them atop his own boots around his ankles and keeps his feet rooted firmly on the car floor at the bottom of his seat.  Lizzy frees herself of her own pants and underwear and as soon as they are out of the way, Dean is roughly pulling her by her arms back on top of him where she’d previously been.  It isn’t sexy nor is it amorous.   The whole thing is abject, fast, and, at least for Lizzy, yielding and submissive.  She’s recognized already that he’s steering the ship on his own this time and she lets him, seeing that he truly needs to.

Once Lizzy’s straddling him again, Dean takes her wrists and pulls, placing them to either side of his head.  “Keep them there,” he tells her flatly.  She complies, gripping tightly onto the edge of the passenger seat on either side of his head.  Leaning forward now, her eyes level with his and lips just an inch apart, they peer into each other as Dean hastily reaches between their bodies and buries himself inside of her in one quick motion. 

Lizzy cries out with the very sudden sensation, eyes screwing shut and nails digging into the reclined leather seat as he fills her completely.  He stills his movement just for a moment to let her adjust as he returns his hands to hair.

“Open your eyes,” he tells her, voice low and needy as he forces her to keep her face hovering above his. 

She listens, her lids lifting and eyes latching onto his.  She sees his wide open vulnerability and pure necessity.  It makes him look lost, like the young kid in need of love and security that she’s sure he once was.  The moment doesn’t last long as his expression quickly shifts to something raw, something sordid that makes her slightly scared but more lustful than anything.

Dean, unable to keep still any longer, begins moving, working in and out of her with pure determination.  He watches her eyes glaze over with the change, pleasure coating her face and her eyelids beginning to drop again.

“Look at me,” he demands, his fingers grabbing even tighter in her hair, needing to see her eyes focus purely on him.  She listens obediently, eyes blow wide with the tone in his voice combined with the gratification he gives her.  Her breathing is fast and he watches her, every muscle movement in her face, every eyelash flutter.  “Tell me again.”

She moans out with the command and stares him down.  “Never leaving you,” she sighs out her promise.  “I won’t ever leave your side.”

Dean move his hands to grab her hips, trying to keep her still on top of him, fingers pressing hard into her skin.  He knows it’ll leave bruises on her but he relishes the thought rather than be concerned by it.  He wants to mark her, mark his territory.  Holding her in place, he picks up his pace, forcefully thrusting into her with sheer abandon.

“Fuck,” Dean groans out, jaw clenching.  He listens to her hitching breath, her loud and beautiful sounds of pleasure she’s making and starts to actually believe she’ll keep her promise.

“Oh God, Dean,” she breathes out, eyes still struggling to keep their focus on him as he asked.  “I need you.  Won’t leave you.”

“You’re mine, L,” he tells her with labored effort.  “All mine.  Tell me you’re mine.”

Lizzy just moans, biting her lip and creeping closer to her own gratifying end.

“Now,” he tensely commands.  “ _Tell me._ ”

“God, I’m yours,” her voice breaks through.  “Fuck, Dean, I’m yours.”  She punctuates the end of her subservient vow with a howl of pure satisfaction, her lids slamming shut as she succumbs to him fully.

Dean never stops his pursuits through her own blissful moment, pushing into her relentlessly as he brings a hand away from her hip and onto the back of her neck, pulling her down forcefully and kissing her through the sounds of her voice coming back down.  She hungrily accepts his mouth, her tongue prying his lips open and eagerly moving against his.  She lets go of the seat back and presses her hands to either side of his face as her teeth capture his bottom lip.

“Oh, yours,” she breathes out once she releases him from her teeth.  Her hands run down his chest and press against him with the attempt to sit up.  Feeling like he’s losing the control he so badly needs to have in the moment, the control of her he desperately has to have to ensure she’s his, he moves to take it back.

Holding her wrists in his hands once more, he brings them behind her, locking them both in the iron-clad grip of his right hand.  She drops forward without the ability to prop herself up any longer, her still clothed chest flush against his also still clothed chest and her face buried in the side of his neck.  His free hand latches onto the back of her neck once more and he holds her there, not letting her move even an inch on her own accord.  Relishing the loud gasps and animalistic growls she makes against his skin, he works to get her back on track towards her own second release.  The better he can make her feel, the more he thinks she’ll want to stay with him.  It’s a base way to think, but in the moment he doesn’t have the clarity to analyze his thoughts.  He goes with instinct, and it tells him to make her his and make her come.

Feeling her own nails dig into her palms as they’re held behind her, she tenses with the overwhelming thrill and carnal reward of letting him take her.  In this very moment she isn’t Lizzy anymore, she’s Dean’s girl.  She’s his and she wouldn’t change it for anything.  Having been the always strong female, the woman who needs no one else and can stand on her own two feet through whatever gets thrown at her, she should be uncomfortable with this, angry even.  But she isn’t.  She’s actually never felt more loved in her life, which seems strange considering the man she’s completely devoted to is currently turning her into a compliant and, what she would have formerly considered, very weak woman.

“Oh my God,” her wavering words say, muffled by his shirt.  She turns and cranes her head, bringing her mouth to his exposed neck.  Dean’s eyes close with the contact, slowing his pace while loving the fact that she’ll always do anything she can to make him feel good in every way possible.  She loves him that much, even when his actions have gone overboard.  Soon he regains his full wits and forges ahead.

“You’re always going to be mine, L,” he tells her, hips his thrusting up into her, returning to his former pace.  “No one else’s.”

“Oh, no one… oh God, no one else’s,” she echoes, her breathing quickening once more as her moans of pleasure return.  Her wrists burn in his unrelenting hold, his other hand once again snaking up ward and gripping too tightly onto her hair, but she takes in the slight hurt with fondness as the line between bliss and pain blurs to a wonderful place.  “Dean, I, oh…” Lizzy starts but cannot finish her statement as she once again hits her peak, her arms struggling to get free through the encompassing feeling and her forehead bearing down on Dean’s neck.  It’s more than Dean can handle, seeing her pushed to her absolute limit for a second time, and with the feeling of her contracting around him he gives in and follows her to his own euphoric ending, her name spilling from his lips as he does.

The formerly noisy car, once filled with loud moans and heartfelt promises, is suddenly quiet apart from the heavy breathing of two beyond spent people and ‘4 + 20’ playing softly in the background.  Neither move, Lizzy’s arms held behind her and Dean still inside of her.  They lay together, enjoying the stillness in contrast to the frenzy that had taken ahold just seconds before.  Lizzy inhales deeply, taking in the scent of sweat on his skin.  She pulls her arms from his slackened grasp and pushes herself up, an elbow to each side of his head and peers down at him. 

“You need to find a way to believe that I won’t leave you,” she states simply before lowering her head and kissing him. 

“I believe you,” he replies, lips brushing her.  “It’s just happened to me so many times before…”

“But not with me.”  Staring at him she waits and makes sure he gets it, trusts it.

“Not with you,” he returns.

“I love you, Hot Shot.”  She does love him, more than she thought possible.  Somehow this experience that was meant to tear them apart has only made them that much stronger.  “Always.  I’ll always be right here.”

Wrapping her in his arms, he pulls her in again, this time into a tight hug.  She rests her cheek on his chest, comforting herself with the sound of his heart beating, and he drops his chin onto the top of her head.  Sighing with the reassurance, Dean feels more confident than he’s ever been about the two of them.  His worries concerning her are nearly gone now.  “Love you too, L.  More than anything.”

* * *

 


	22. Dark Side of the Moon

* * *

Lizzy exhales loudly, the cloud of smoke escaping her lips, curling into the living room air and quickly dissipating. She hazily smiles with delight while lying on her back, body stretched across her oversize couch. She's wedged between the couch's back and Dean, who's mirroring her position and taking up the full length going the opposite way. They are positioned head to foot and frequently take the opportunity of facing the other to steal glances and grin like love sick teens. This whole ordeal really backfired on Laraje in the long run, they were just that solid.

"This is all I wanted out of this weekend," she confesses, wide smile in place as she sits up a little and reaches out over Dean's leg. She extends her arm towards Sam who is sitting in the nearby recliner to her side, his feet dangling off the end with his height and arms dropping over the armrests, offering him the joint in her hand. He waves her off, eyes already red and head swimming to a point where smoking more would do no good. He's stoned as stoned can be. "Light weight," she pokes fun before moving her arm towards Dean, who readily accepts her offer.

"Sammy's a god boy," Dean reminds her, bringing the joint to his mouth and using a joking tone. "He doesn't really smoke drugs too often… or at all."

"But I should," Sam responds with his eyes staring at the white painted ceiling and feeling his mind and body calming to a wonderful, happy point.

"Here, here," Lizzy agrees, sharing a lazy high-five with her adopted brother. She's never seen Sam relax so much. It was nice.

After finally coming back into the apartment, Lizzy and Dean found Sam nervously pacing the floor in the hallway. The second she got to the top of the stairs, Sam stood stock still mid-stride and looking at her expectantly. He was scared, his lost puppy look firmly in place, and she just couldn't bring herself to be mad at or frightened by the obviously worried man any longer. She hugged him tightly and told him they'd talk the next day. Having discussed so much already, she just wanted to end the day on a good note and without the mention of demons, possession, or her fears for Sam's future. Just looking into his eyes once let her know he's still Sam, still in there and still deep down the same person he always was. They'll figure it all out… tomorrow.

Now, Lizzy lets her true colors fly in the form of getting completely baked and listening to music. After the day she's had, she's earned it. The brothers let her have her way for the night, though at this point no one is complaining about her choice in activity. They've embraced it fully.

"Pink Floyd is… awesome," Sam says slowly while closing his eyes and taking in the sounds of 'The Great Gig in the Sky'. "Never knew that before."

"You should have," Dean tells him while giving Lizzy what was left of the joint. "Not like I've never put Floyd on in the car before."

"Yeah, but you always make me listen to it, so I don't wanna," Sam explains, the barriers that normally would keep him from admitting such childishly stubborn things now gone. "It's different when you aren't forcing your music down my throat."

"Whoa, forcing?" Dean questions with surprise. "I never force you to listen to anything. I just always happen to be driving so I get to pick the music."

"Which is a lame rule, by the way," Lizzy adds her quiet two cents before burning down the last of the joint and dropping it into the ashtray on her coffee table. "You always drive, fucking control freak."

"Shut your cakehole," he jokes, not having the fortitude to compose a valid argument and instead settles for nudging her with his leg.

A comfortable silence settles over the group, all three allowing themselves the rare luxury of relaxation. It's been so long since Sam and Dean have had the chance to do such a thing so both get lost in it whole-heartedly.

"You think Lou is in heaven?" Lizzy suddenly asks aloud, letting her usual philosophical stoner self out.

"Huh?" Sam asks, his head lifting with the name of the woman he misses as much as Lizzy does.

"Like, do you think she's in heaven," Lizzy asks again, looking at Sam. "Castiel told me that she couldn't hear me talking to her earlier, so I know she isn't hanging around. She must have gone somewhere, right?"

"Right," Sam returns, following her logic. "Probably. I mean, she was a good person."

"Great person," Lizzy corrects.

"The fucking best," Sam says, the tug of a smile threatening the corners of his mouth with his recollection of her. "I'd say she's definitely up there."

"I hope so," she wishes out loud while Dean drops a comforting hand onto her knee. "But I worry about it."

"Why would you worry about that?" Dean questions. "Lou did more good with her short life than most people could ever hope to. If anyone deserves a spot sitting pretty among the clouds, it's Lou."

"That's true…" Lizzy adds, her thoughts wondering for a moment. "But… where do monsters go when they die?"

The room goes silent once more with the very interesting though. How neither Dean nor Sam ever had this thought before is surprising. They kill so many creatures all the damn time, but what happens to them afterwards was never a concern… until now.

"Exactly," Lizzy sadly says after a few minute of contemplation.

Without sitting up, Sam reaches a hand over the arm of the recliner and Lizzy extends her arm to him, weaving her hand in his as she knows that's what he was looking for. Lou's death was something they both dealt with on a daily basis and it was something they'd grown closer from dealing with together. Many times they would discuss her on the phone, Lizzy telling him more about the girl who he never got the chance to know fully and Sam confessing that he hadn't felt as close to another person since Jessica.

"Fucking sad how many people we've all lost…" Lizzy comments while her brain keeps running in its deep thought process and once again the room goes quiet as they all contemplate the truth behind her statement.

Unexpectedly, the serene silence is cut into with a loud roar of laughter from Sam. Lizzy drops his hand and takes a second to share a confused look with Dean. They both turn to look at Sam who is now doubled over with his arms hugging his center, the giggles getting the best of him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Sammy?" Dean says, an involuntary smile creeping into the corners of his mouth. He can't help it; the sight is infectious.

"Dude, you ok?" Lizzy asks the laughing man with a small huff of her own. Sam just does his best to catch his breath in order to fill them in.

"The car… horn blasting…" he manages out before laughing again, his inebriated state enhancing the humor of the situation he recalls.

"What car?" Dean questions with total confusion. Lizzy laughs quietly as she watches Sam struggle.

"The car… I drove here, ha," Sam tells them as he manages to finally start calming down enough to speak. "It broke down in front of that church... down the street, oh man." He takes a minute to let his now aching stomach muscles have a break. "I punched the steering wheel when I got pissed that it wouldn't start up again. Got so fucking mad I broke it. The horn wouldn't stop blaring. It's probably still there… loud as shit, ha!" He erupts again and the other two join him, still highly baffled by his story, but they get enough of it to find the humor in what he tells them.

"Jesus, Sammy," Dean laughs out, elated to see Sam enjoy himself the way he is right now. It's been a long time since he's seen or heard his little brother laugh like this.

"Told you this was a damn good idea," Lizzy laughs loudly while sitting up and pulling out another rolling paper. "Round three, bitches."

A half hour later and the three hunters have barely spoken. Maybe a third round wasn't the great idea Lizzy thought it would be. The room feels just short of comatose now.

"Sam?" Lizzy calls out, noticing the closed eyes partially hidden under dark shaggy strands. "Sam-I-Am?" He doesn't answer her with anything other than loud, sound breathing.

"Dude's out, L," Dean announces. "He'll probably be out for a while too. Can only imagine he hasn't slept in days."

"Then out for a while we'll let him be," Lizzy says while standing up, stumbling a little with her cloudy mind. "The guy deserves to rest after everything he did for us." She unlaces Sam's boots and clumsily starts prying them off of his feet. Stirring with the movement, Sam's eyes open to slits for just a second before he smiles at her and closes them again.

"Thought you said it'd be creepy," he sleepily says with a smile, repeating his joke from months ago when she had tried her best to get a drunken Sam ready to sleep it off after he broke into her house late at night. She laughs hardily at the memory and before his second shoe is off, Sam's out for good.

"What'd be creepy?" Dean questions, unclear of the meaning behind Sam's odd choice of words.

"Long story for another time," Lizzy responds, not needing to share the indiscretion with Dean right now. She pulls a warm comforter out of the hallway linen closet and drapes it over Sam's sleeping form before kissing his cheek. "Night, Sam-I-Am." She ruffles his hair and stands straight to walk away and leave him to rest but pauses when she catches the look on Dean's face. He's smirking, but behind that grin she sees the pride he holds.

"What?" she smiles with an eye roll while she goes back out into the hall.

"Nothing," he lies as she walks back in and heads over to couch, lying on top of him and covering them both with the second blanket she took out.

"Ah, clearly something," she rebuts, snuggling into his side and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Just, you're really mother-ish sometimes," he tells her honestly.

"Not sure how I'm supposed to take that one."

"It was meant to be a compliment," Dean explains to her.

"Then why does it sound like you're dissing me somehow…" she looks up at him with a suspicious look.

"No way," he tells her, pulling her in closer with his arm around her shoulders. "I like that you're good to him. He needs that. Hell, he's never had that."

"Just doing what I felt like doing," Lizzy explains. "I don't necessarily do it for anyone else. Just going with instinct."

"Well, they're good instincts." Dean sits with the thought for a beat. "Ben would have liked you, you know."

"Yeah?" she asks him, surprised by the comment. He's talking pretty freely right now. God damn, pot is the wonder drug for these two. Lizzy wishes she knew this sooner and puts the new and quite valuable knowledge in her back pocket.

"Oh yeah," he hardily answers with a grin. "That kid is awesome and you woulda been good with him if… you know…"

"He was yours?" she finishes for him.

Dean nods in return and smiles at the thought.

"You really are disappointed, aren't you? That he's not yours?" Lizzy questions delicately. She wasn't expecting him to so obviously have wanted the child to have been his.

"Honestly, I am a little," Dean spills. "He's a great kid and so much like me it's fucking scary. But shit, can you imagine a kid having to deal with me as its father?" He shudders at the thought.

"Yeah, I can," Lizzy calmly responds, clearly having considered the thought before. "I always kinda figured you'd rock ass at being a dad." She places an innocent kiss on his cheek with her statement.

"You nuts?" Dean asks her, turning to look her in the eye. "The drinking, the miserable attitude, the monsters and evil things always after me…"

"The fierce love and devotion you have for your family, the insane need you have to help others, your kindness and compassion…" she tacks on in order to play a little devil's advocate.

"That still doesn't add up to a well-adjusted kid if you ask me." Dean sighs and looks back up at the ceiling.

"I don't know, Sam turned out ok enough," she rebuts, reminding Dean that he's already done a great job as a father figure.

"I wouldn't count psychic boy as a total success, L," Dean reminds her in a low tone.

"Considering the circumstances, I'd say you did the absolute best anyone could have," she explains with a warm smile, her fingers playing with the pendant around his neck. "And Sam's not a kid anymore. Just like every good parent, you let them go when they grow up and hope they make the right decisions. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't."

Dean looks over to Sam, sleeping splayed out on the too small for him recliner and grins. He looks peaceful, innocent, and like the kid he used to be. He missed that, especially lately. But even with Sam's current issues and lack of good judgment, he was a good person. He's doing what he's doing because he thinks it's right. There aren't many people out there who care more than Sam does. Maybe he didn't fail the guy after all. Not completely.

"Whatever," Lizzy states, the conversation upsetting her a little now. "It's just a shame that life is what it is. Otherwise, if we actually could someday in the future, we'd have one hell of a kid."

"That's probably true," Dean agrees. "I mean the two of us are the coolest people I know. Put that together…"

"Coolest kid to ever exist." Lizzy smiles.

"He'd know good music," Dean says.

"And good movies," Lizzy adds and he huffs a nearly silent laugh.

"Scam on chicks on the playground at recess." With this Lizzy laughs loudly.

"Be Sammy book smart," she says, crossing her fingers as if this scenario would ever have the chance to exist.

"But with daddy's good looks," he winks at her.

"Or mom's if it's girl. See, we'd literally have the coolest kid for real," she sums up. "But you know, our family is pretty fucking awesome as it is. We hunt things together, keep people safe…"

"The family business," Dean quietly responds, echoing the words he'd used on Sam years ago to get him back on the road.

"Yeah, I like that," Lizzy responds while moving to lay on top of Dean. "And I also like that Sam said that I'm a Winchester." She wags her eyebrows at him with the statement. She knows he heard Sam say it and now she want to see his reaction to that.

"Oh you definitely are," he laughs. "You're an alcoholic with a rage issue, you're an expert at dealing with... or not dealing with… loss, you can take an ass kicking and dole out a nasty one too… shit, L. I think my dad would have fucking adopted you if he'd gotten to meet you."

"I think you'd have a problem on your hands if he was still around, honestly." She grins mischievously at him and Dean winkles his brow.

"What'd ya' mean?" he asks, wrapping his arms around her.

"Dude, John was fucking sexy," she tells him, Dean giving a look of surprise with her bluntness. "Lou and I used to talk about what we thought he looked like since the two of you came out as hot as you did. Once I actually saw him in that dream, holy DILF."

"That's lovely," Dean caustically tells her, not particularly liking how she's speaking.

"Hey, you can't get mad at me for that! He was awesome. Plus, you know already that I like much older men," she explains, obviously referring to the fact that he was older than her, even if it was only four years… and a half.

"Much older?" he asks, eyes wide with her comment. She just smiles and kisses him again.

"I'm kidding, I'd never trade up to a more classic model," Lizzy tells him.

"You can't," Dean smiles back. "Soul mates, remember?"

"Oh yeah," she feigns forgetfulness. "Damn it."

"Is that something you'd actually want?" Dean wonders aloud.

"Getting to bang your dad?" Lizzy asks with raised eyebrows, confused by his subject change through her inebriated state.

"What! No! L, Gross!" Dean responds, not needing to hear Lizzy say such a thing. "No, I mean the name. Is that actually something you'd want?"

"Like taking it as my own?" she questions. "Like… Lizzy Winchester?"

"Does have a nice ring to it," Dean admits. "And you truly are one of us now."

"Yeah," Lizzy agrees. "I don't know, I never really thought about it, as weird as that sounds."

"Yeah, me neither," Dean says truthfully. "Why is that?"

"Probably because we're too fucking busy being in hell, killing shit, keeping each other in line, saving strangers, and trying to avoid being sent to the loony bin."

"That and the whole idea of, like… marriage… and getting married…." They both look at each other and make scrunched up, disliking expressions.

"Flowers and dresses and people looking at us like sideshow freaks," Lizzy tacks on, disgust with the idea still clear on her face.

"Penguin suits and bad DJs playing 'Celebrate Good Times'… Jesus, I'm getting skeeved just thinking about it," Dean shudders.

"So awful," Lizzy says to him. "I say fuck all that. If we ever get to that place, we do it our way."

"Nice," Dean smiles, kissing her quickly while happy they are on the same page… again.

Lizzy stands up from her comfortable spot on the couch. "Come on. Time to leave Sleeping Beauty to do his thing. Plus, the sun's coming up. Should probably get some sleep of our own… eventually." Winking at him, she disappears from the living room for a quick moment, returning with something fuzzy in her hand.

"What're you doing?" Dean asks as he watches her while getting up.

"Helping the poor dude out," she answers while placing the blue earmuffs over Sam's head. "Don't want to scar the kid for life, as he so lovingly put it."

Dean huffs a laugh while draping an arm over her shoulder once she's done. "Good idea. I mean he is right, you are loud."

"You only say that because you never fucked Louie," Lizzy smiles. "Loudest chick ever. She was completely nuts."

"Huh," Dean considers the idea. "Lucky Sammy."

* * *

Gently lifting the earmuffs off of Sam's ears, Lizzy prepares to wake him up as slowly and carefully as possible. Waking a hunter from a dead sleep can be a quite dangerous ordeal if not done right. Not feeling like walking away with a black eye, Lizzy takes her time. Once the fuzzy headwear is off his head, she drops a light hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Sam-I-Am," she whispers, sure to use her voice as soon as possible to let him know it's her, and watches as his eyelids flutter with the sound. "Sam. Wake up, dude."

Sam knows who it is immediately and pries his still overly tired eyes open. He sees her smiling at him from her spot on the couch sitting Indian-style in her black shorts and oversized sweatshirt, waiting for him to come to.

"Hey," Sam says while stretching and, after looking around with slight confusion, he realizes he's still in the living room recliner.

"Morning," Lizzy returns with a lopsided grin. "Sorry I'm waking you. I know you need the sleep."

"S'ok," he mumbles, closing the footrest back into the chair and sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "What's up?"

"Wanted to talk before Dean got up," she admits. "Figured it'd be better with just us, no big brother's judging eyes and smart mouth to interrupt." She hands over a hot cup of coffee and Sam takes it from her with a smile.

"Thanks," he says to her, referring to both the coffee and the privacy. Thankfully she understands how difficult Dean can be.

"So, I know now," she dives right in, needing to get everything rolling in case Dean does wake up before she expects him to. "Not sure when you were gonna tell me."

"Not sure I was ever gonna grow the balls to do so," Sam says, sipping the hot drink.

"I can understand that," Lizzy tells him honestly. "But I can think of about a million better ways for me to find out than actually seeing it firsthand."

"And I'm sorry for that," he apologizes in earnest. "You've been so damn good to me, Lizzy. I just… I didn't want to disappoint you."

"Disappointment isn't the word, dude," she tells him. "I know you think that what you're doing is right, but I'm scared of this thing, Sam. Real scared."

Sam nods his understanding but stays quiet.

"So what is this, huh?" she asks. "This is your premonitions gone crazy? Or is it something else?"

"It's… well, I'm not totally sure," he tries to explain. "I just know there's always been something… dark in me and before it was this looming, threatening thing. Now, it's not at all."

"How has it changed?" she questions in a calm tone, though inside she's freaking out. She may have dreaded this conversation as much as Sam did, if not more.

"I found a way to make it a good thing," Sam says, looking at her with a flash of excitement and hope. "I always thought that this was going to take me down with the warning dad gave Dean. But instead of give into it, I found a way to turn this thing into something good."

"Ok," Lizzy nods slowly, trying to take what he tells her in stride. "So you've been exorcizing demons with your mind. Why is this so good? Why not just do it the old fashioned way?"

"Because most of the people I exorcize demons from live," he tells her. "Most of the time when we send demons packing the old way, the people they were riding don't survive. You know that's true. If I have to have this curse put on me, at least I can help people with it."

"Can't blame you for that," Lizzy admits, still using an even tone. She discovered a long time ago how to deal best with each of the Winchester brothers. With Dean, it is tough love all the way. He doesn't always respond well to or even listen to heart-to-heart talking. Sometimes he needs a solid kick in the ass and she was fine with giving him one. Sam is the total opposite. He responds best to calm, open, and understanding conversation. He craves that kind of exchange, having only had a drill sergeant as a parent and Lizzy continues to do her best to get through to him. "But what about Ruby? Dude…."

"I know," Sam interrupts her, already well aware of how she feels about the demon. "I know what you're thinking. I would be thinking the same thing if the tables were turned. But she isn't what you assume she is."

"I assume she's a demon, deceitful like all the rest. So take me to school, Sam," she asks of him. "I want to get it. I want to not worry about you and not be scared for you all the damn time."

"Rudy's earned my trust," he tells her, placing his mug on the coffee table. "Dean left and I was lost, alone."

Lizzy's immediately hurt by this. "You were never alone," she reminds him. "How could you say that? I was here, calling you, begging you to come back…"

"But I couldn't do that," he explains, eyes sad. "Lizzy, I know you were here for me, you always are, but you were out of the game. I wasn't ready to leave it all behind me."

"Not when you had revenge to dole out," she quips quickly.

"Absolutely," he agrees, surprising her. "And Ruby could help me with that. You had your own promise to keep to Dean. He wanted you out, told you to live a safe life. With me, he told me to keep fighting. So I did."

"I didn't know he said that to you," Lizzy informs him, understanding a little more why it was that he kept going. "He should at least be happy that you listened."

"You'd think so," Sam says to his hands in his lap, wringing them with the stress his strained relationship with Dean has caused him. Lizzy hate seeing them like this, hates it. It felt all kinds of wrong.

"Is there any part of you that thinks that what you're doing is wrong?" Lizzy questions, needing to find the little glimmer of hope in him that she can pull at, make him possibly change his mind. She watches as he continues to look at his hands as if studying them; the usual Sam avoidance technique when admitting to things he doesn't want to. Avoiding eye contact.

"Yeah, of course," he answers truthfully. "I mean, Dean is against it, the angels are threatening me, I'm sure you aren't all about it…"

"I'm seriously scared by it," she corrects. "I still think the world of you Sam-I-Am, I'm just… I'm terrified that this is not good for you. What if it gets bigger, more powerful? What if it takes over who you are? What if one day you go too far with this and… you walk away a different person?" Her voice cracks with her last question as her worries come to the surface. "I need you around, ok? And you're brother needs you. I know for a fact that, as much of a mess as you were without him, he'd be so, so much worse without you. His inner strength is all bullshit, Sam. It comes from you. He needs you more than you've ever needed him, and that's the truth."

Sam stares wide eyed at Lizzy with what she tell him. He'd never really believed that his older brother was the weaker of the two, but whole heartedly considers what she says. He's also shocked that Lizzy would say such a thing.

"You tell him I said that, I'll deny it and then shove my boot right up your ass," she warns him and he just smiles in return.

"I won't tell him," he confirms as he watches her stand up and walk towards him. He's slightly startled when she drops down onto his lap and leans into him.

"Thank you," she says while dropping a hand onto the side of his face. "I love you, Sam. You are so important to me and I am not willing to lose you. I will fight to the death, kick anyone or anything's ass before I let you out of my life. Please, please don't be stupid. Just remember, go with what you believe is right," she tells him while linking a finger through the ring hanging around his neck on a black chord. It was Lou's ring, the one she gave him, and she reminds him of what the inscription says. "And if you can't seem to figure out what's right, then call me, ask me, ask Dean, get a second opinion, whatever it takes. Just please remember how much we love you and when your brother is being a difficult ass, and you know that he will be, just call me."

Sam nods his head in agreement. He's once again taken aback by how much she honestly cares and not just because she was with Dean and she had to. He's still not used to it and many times doesn't know what to do with it, but he'll have to try and take advantage. To say he hasn't had second thoughts about his choice to use this evil side of him would be a lie. She seems to understand that.

"My honest opinion, I don't want you to use this fucking mind thing at all. It puts me off. I think it's completely wrong and really dangerous, but that's all I can say. You're a smart guy, smarter than all of us honestly," Lizzy laughs quietly. It was completely true. "Use that big, beautiful brain of yours, really think everything through… and never hesitate to ask for help."

Sam smiles, glad that this conversation went way, way better than he'd expected it to, and sighs out his relief. She was still on his side, no matter what. Without a word he brings his arms around her, hugging his thanks. Lizzy smiles and returns the embrace, happy that she might, maybe, possibly have gotten through to him. She's starting slow, being comforting and quiet, but ready to build her opposition if needed.

"Love ya', Sam-I-Am."

"You too," Sam says back before letting her go. The sheer solace of her acceptance of him still making everything seem so much better.

"And I want you to come with me later today," she says while standing up. "I have something to do and I want you with me for it."

"Ah, ok," he cautiously agrees with curiosity.

"So go back to sleep, and use the couch this time. More comfy," she smiles. "And I'm forcing Dean out of here in a few so it'll be quiet for a little while. Enjoy it!"

She leaves the room and Sam plops down onto the oversize and surprisingly comfortable couch. With the anxiety fading away, it doesn't take long for him to find sleep once more as he listens to the voice of his brother complaining about having to wake up and his new-found sister telling him to stop being a baby and fucking suck it up. He smiles and drifts off.

* * *

 


	23. Come at me Bro

* * *

"This where I say I told you so, right?" Lizzy grins out, getting once more out of the hold Dean had managed to put her in. He hasn't been able to effectively pin her yet and slowly but surely his confidence is waning. She loves it.

"So not done with you yet, sweetheart," Dean says while breathing heavily. He circles around her atop the padded floor of the training room, predator stalking its prey, and scouring his brain for a solid next move, though he's running out of ideas.

Lizzy confidently stands in the middle of the large open room, ready stance taken with a dark, determined look on her face, and she waits. He can think and prepare all he wants. She's good and she knows she can take him… as long as she doesn't get too distracted that is. Oddly enough, she's finding herself leering at him now and then. Something about Dean on the attack, being quick and fluid with his motions, showing off his strength and doing his best to overpower her is much more of a turn on than she'd planned for. In all honesty, earlier she simply wanted to literally kick his ass just to prove that she could. But now, well, now the physical activity she has in mind is a little different. Focus, Lizzy!

"You just gonna stand there?" Dean challenges, hoping he can for once get her to take the first move. She's patient and it's killing him.

"Waiting on you grampa," she returns quickly. "You need a break? Getting too tired? You did miss your nap today."

"You're totally gonna pay for that," Dean smirks as he finally advances on her, making his move.

Swinging with his right fist, Lizzy ducks quickly under his attempted punch and just barely avoids the quickly following left uppercut. She jumps back a bit and finds a ready stance again, winking at him to taunt his failed attempt.

"Son of a bitch," Dean complains under his breath, though the smile tugging at his lips gives him away. He's proud as hell of her and he knew she was good, he'd seen it first hand before, but this was beyond all expectations.

"Have to do better than that, bad ass," Lizzy taunts boldly. "Where's that legendary Dean Winchester I keep hearing about?"

"Big talk for a little fraidy-cat," Dean laughs while standing tall. "Come at me, Wonder Woman!"

Before the insult can make its way fully past his lips, she's charging in his direction, her shoulder plowing into his stomach. She pushes him back with all her might, plants a foot behind his legs, and immediately drops him when she forces him to trip over her. Landing hard onto his back with a loud exhale of surprise, she pounces atop him. The shock of the sudden forceful change of position dazing him for a split second, Lizzy takes full advantage like a pro. Straddling his chest, she swiftly grabs both his arms and pins them out to the side, her knees pressing into his biceps and hands grasping tightly to his wrists, forcing them into the floor. She brings her face down to his only an inch away and flashes her huge, toothy grin.

"And the big man is down," she gloats and kisses him on the lips quickly. "I win."

Lifting his legs up as high as he can behind her, Dean drops them down to the ground with all the strength he could find. He uses the momentum he creates to pull his upper body forward and off of the floor, pushing her backward as he does. It's Lizzy's turn to fall onto her back, Dean moving to lean over her now and pin her hands above her head.

"Spoke too soon, L," he informs her while kneeing between her legs that are now wrapped around his middle. "Knew that overconfidence would catch up to you sooner or later." He takes a moment to look her over, skin glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed with the effort she puts forth. She wore tight clothes, black yoga pants and a sports bra, leaving nothing to the imagination. She looks good and kneeling over her like this, he's putting himself at risk for getting a little too turned on for such a public place.

"Like what you see up there?" she questions after following his eyes and easily reading his thoughts.

"Always," he says with obviousness, leaning forward to kiss her again. Before he can reach her lips, he's falling sideways. Lizzy uses her legs that are locked around him to push him off of her and switch their positions, once again her being on top of him. Yanking her elbows back behind her, Dean loses his grip on her wrists. She scrambles up to her feet again, avoiding his attempts to grab her before she does.

"I have the appropriate amount to confidence, thank you very much," she says to him while walking backwards and getting back into her ready stance she's been taught to always take by her trainer Mike.

"Ok, I'll admit it," Dean says through labored breathing as he gets back to his feet. "You've got some moves."

Lizzy just grins like a kid. He's taken off his game, disheveled at best with matted hair and his sweatpants twisted to the side. He looked adorable, to be honest, but she brushes aside the thought. She watches as he fixes his attire and returns his gaze to her.

"If it's alright with you, I think I'm gonna stop going so easy on ya'," Dean warns, a playful yet sinful look in his eyes.

"Ha!" Lizzy laughs at his audacity while pointing at him. "You've been trying your damnedest and you know it!"

"No way," he lies. "Just warming up, little lady."

"That's it, I am gonna fuck you up!" she tells him angrily while striding toward him, ready to make him eat his words.

She takes her first swing, her right fist cutting through the air and missing its mark when Dean leans back out of its path. He didn't see the combination she planned coming, however, and she hits him square in the ribs with the heel of her left palm, not enough to actually hurt. Just enough to let him know she means business. Following it up with another right punch, she connects with his cheek lightly. If she meant it, the bruising would already be starting.

Lizzy spins backwards around herself using the momentum of her right arm's effort and brings her left leg up with all intentions of bringing her foot clean across his face in a fanning motion. Shocking him as he somehow let it slip that she was an extremely flexible person that could easily get her foot up to his much taller height, he blocks her kick with his left forearm and instantly brings up his right forearm to block her attempted quick blow to the gut she tried for immediately after.

Backing up a bit, Lizzy takes a second to think quickly and devise a new plan of attack. Dean sees the opportunity of her pause and runs with it. He steps forward into her space and throws a solid right hook, which she avoids just barely, ducking low and crouching to the floor. Sweeping a leg level to the ground, she tries to take out his legs. Dean jumps up, letting her leg pass underneath him. Lizzy stands back up but gets attacked before she's ready.

His light punch lands to the side of her waist, then another to her left cheek, neither doing any real damage. Dean reaches both hands out to grab her shoulders with the aim of pushing her back into the wall. Lizzy brings both of her arms up between his and around them, her elbows bending and linking around his limbs tightly. Dean's arms now locked in hers, she makes a blunt forward motion to simulate a head butt right into his forehead. She then let's his arms free and brings her right leg in and thrusts her foot out into the center of his stomach, kicking him backward. Dean stumbles a few steps and breathes deeply, a little of the air in his lungs having just been forced out.

"Fuck," he shakes his head, staring at her with anger over the fact that she's once again managed to get the upper hand.

"Watch your mouth, old timer," she grins, holding her arm out to him and flexing her fingers herself, beckoning him Matrix style and asking him to bring it.

"Oh, this shit ends now!" Dean shouts with the hint of a grin on his lips. Even though he's pissed that all five-foot-five of her is literally fending him off and, though he'd never, ever admit it, kicking his ass, he can't help but love her that much more for it.

Dean charges her, unable to hold back his growing need to win and prove to her once and for all that she can't take him down. Her eyes grow wide with the shock of his sudden attack and she does her best to steady her stance and be ready. Instead of throwing fists, Dean plows right into her, lifting her off the ground and draping her body over his shoulder. He keeps going until she hits the padded wall back-first with a loud 'oomph'. He drops Lizzy onto her feet, spins her around roughly, and presses the front of her body into the wall. Her head is turned to the side, her cheek smashed to the blue pad, and he can see the frustration in her expression.

"Here's your legendary Dean Winchester, baby," he quips while holding her arms together behind her with one hand and pushing his forearm into the back of her neck with the other. Lizzy, never one to give up easily, begins kicking at him blindly with her free leg. "Uh-huh," Dean warns, bringing one of his own legs between hers and pressing his body weight into her, effectively pinning her to the wall with no way out.

"Alright," Lizzy's struggling voice says. "You fucking got me, Hot Shot."

"Sure did," Dean says low into her ear, letting the moment turn a bit racy for himself. "You're all mine, L. Not getting outta this one."

"Yeah, yeah. And it only took you a half hour to pin me once. Oh," she punctuates her diss with a moan as Dean runs his tongue along her neck, licking up her sweat.

"Now I'm just pissed that we're in public," he nearly groans, hips pressing harder into her with the sudden urge to take her right then and there. "You're fucking hot when you fight, you know that?"

"Sure do," she smiles jokingly.

"You know," Dean begins, voice still low and gravelly. "I'd give anything to keeps you against this wall and…."

"Enough you two!" Mike shouts light-heartedly from the doorway of the training room when he spies them against the far wall. "I have kids coming in here for class in about five, so the fight-porn has to stop."

"Sorry, Mike!" Lizzy yells back as Dean lets her go. She turns to face him and has to keep down her threatening laughter when Dean immediately hides himself behind her. The situation turned him on a little too much apparently.

"Don't be," he tells her. "That was some of the best sparring I've ever seen. You guys should do demos for us, ah, without the whole sexual tension stuff of course."

Neither answer back, the red flush creeping over their faces, as Mike walks out of the room and leaves them be before the next class starts.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Lizzy says as she walks towards her bag in the corner of the room. "Fight-porn?"

"Dude, he might be onto something there," Dean tells her, making his way to her to take the bottle of water from her offering hand. "It's a good idea."

"Huh," Lizzy think for a moment while taking down hefty gulps of water. "There's a freak of every kind out there. There's got to be an audience."

"Hell, I'm one of them. I'd totally watch that," Dean admits.

"You'd watch anything as long as people are banging in it," she rebuts.

"Yeah, I would," he concurs with a smile. "You ready to head?" He tosses her her coat and starts putting on his own.

"Definitely. I need a shower so bad," Lizzy laughs while putting her arms through the sleeves of her winter jacket.

"I could help you with that, you know, if you wanted," Dean smirks while dropping an arm around her shoulder as they begin walking towards the door.

"Hmm, I wouldn't mind that… ooh!" Lizzy stops mid-response when a kid from the incoming class runs straight into her and bear hugs her waist.

"Lizzy!" the young boy shouts up to her with a partially toothless grin.

"Hi Joey!" Lizzy responds brightly with a smile, dropping her bag on the floor and leaning down to pick him up.

"Are you coming to class today?" he asks her hopefully once he's in her grip and sitting on her hip.

"No, kiddo. I'm sorry," she tells him, disappointed that she won't be hanging around today. She always had fun helping out the kids classes and Joey was one of her favorites. "I have to go hang out with this guy today." Lizzy points to Dean at her side.

"Hi. I'm Dean," he greets.

"I'm Joey," the five-year-old responds while jumping down from his lifted spot. He looks up at Dean from his much lower level. "You can stay too. I can show you what Lizzy taught me last week!" He takes his well ingrained ready stance and Dean's eyebrows fly up with surprise at his boldness.

"Oh, I got to see that," Dean pretends to plead to Lizzy. "Clearly this kid can kick a… uh, butt." He holds back the swear he almost let out.

"Maybe another time," she laughs.

"What!" Joey loudly protests while pointing to Dean. "This guy wants to stay! You should stay too."

"Yeah, Lizzy," Dean exaggeratedly joins Joey's plight. "Don't be so lame."

"Yeah!" Joey responds, high-fiving Dean as he does.

"Looks like Joey made a new friend today," Lizzy says while glaring at Dean, getting his usual shit-eating gin in return before looking back to Joey. "But you have Danny working with you guys today and you know how awesome he is."

"Yeah," Joey responds, looking off across the room at Danny with a thoughtful look. He puts his hands on his hips and turns back to Lizzy. "He is pretty cool."

"The coolest," she laughs. "You go kick some butt today and I'll come back next week so you can show me what you learned. Deal?" She holds out her hand to shake on the deal.

"Ok. Deal," Joey answers back, grabbing her hand hard and shaking.

"Ow!" Lizzy fakes pain. "So strong, dude!"

Joey flexes his muscles with a meant to be mean grimace before running toward his group gathering at the other side of the room.

"He's, ah," Dean pauses, trying to come up with the right word.

"Rambunctious?" Lizzy guesses.

"Oh yeah," Dean laughs as they leave the classroom and head for the parking lot.

"That kid is awesome, dude. Thank you kind sir," she says while walking through the front door Dean holds open for her. "Man, he is a fucking character and a half. Those kid classes are a blast."

"I can only imagine," Dean responds, having gotten a very high energy vibe from the gathering children before they left.

"God damn, that felt good. I needed that," Lizzy says once they're out in the biting cold air of the day before tossing him the Mustang keys. "Wanna drive?"

"Is that a real question?" he returns, always excited to take the opportunity to drive a kick-ass car.

* * *

"Here it is," the large, tattoo covered, and intimidating bald man says from the other side of the glass counter. He opens a manila file with the label 'Noonan' on it and pulls out a paper, sliding it across the countertop for Lizzy and Sam to see. "Quite a piece I like to think… not bragging or anything."

"Whoa," Sam says, brow wrinkled and stomach jumping when he takes in the image. It was her, no question about it. His heart races with seeing her face again after so long. "Holy shit."

"It's awesome, right!" Lizzy brightly smiles, bouncing on her heels with excitement to show Sam the artwork.

"So awesome," Sam quietly agrees while picking up the picture and examining it closer. It was absolutely Lou, her bright blue eyes and warm smiling face looking right back at him.

"Lizzy came up with the concept a while ago and we've been messing with it ever since, trying to get it just right," Mitch explains. "Been a real labor of love. The way this one talks about her friend makes me want to get it perfect before we start making it permanent. Remembrance tats are always my favorite and this one, it's been a fun one."

"Trust me, it is perfect," Sam says to the artist without looking away from the drawing. He couldn't even if he wanted to. "She'd love this."

"Hell yeah she would," Lizzy grins, so happy that Sam likes it. "Mitch is an insanely talented dude."

"Thanks," the hulking man laughs off.

"Ok, so don't laugh," Lizzy warns Sam as she pulls some pictures out of the file Mitch placed on the counter. "But these are what I based the tattoo on." She hands them over, Sam finally letting go of the drawing and taking the pictures from her. The first one is the two of them, dressed in Wild West period clothing and in black and white, clearly taken at an amusement park tourist attraction. Lizzy's sitting atop an old piano, whiskey bottle in hand, and Lou is reclined in a rocking chair, a shotgun in her grip and feet propped on the keys of the piano.

"We took that after our senior year of high school, the summer before college hit and separated us for a little while," Lizzy explains. "I obviously chose to hold a whiskey bottle and Lou obviously chose a shotgun. I like to think that the whole thing is some kinda creepy foreshadowing." Sam huffs a laugh, finding the irony in it just like she does. How damn fitting. "We then replaced the shotgun in the pic with her favorite sawed off, which luckily," she flips to the next picture for Sam, "I had a picture of her holding."

Sam looks the second photo over carefully, the picture being of Lou standing next to an old weathered Route 66 sign with the sun setting in the background. She has the sawed-off slung over her shoulder and she's looking off to the side, loose strands of hair blowing across her face.

"She didn't want to take it, saying I was being corny and dumb, but I made her do it anyways. The sun set was fucking gorgeous. Couldn't waste it."

"Well, I'm definitely glad you took it," Sam says, once again looking down at the tattoo-in-progress. It was a 1940's pinup version of Lou in old western style clothing with her beloved sawed-off in her hands, the date she died carved into the metal barrel. It really is perfect. "I love it."

"So do I," Lizzy explains. "But I just need one last detail added before I am ready to take the plunge, which is exactly why I dragged your ass down here with me!"

"What?" Sam asks as he watches her pull the collar of his shirt down and reach in to uncover the necklace he never took off, the black cord with Lou's ring on it. She drops it and lets it rest against his t-shirt.

"Need have this in there too," Lizzy smiles up to him. "Mitch, can you make it so she's wearing this?" Lizzy wants to incorporate the ring Lou loved so much along with something of the man Lou loved also.

"No problem," he responds, taking out his digital camera and aiming it at Sam, snapping an image before Sam could protest. "Come back tomorrow and check it out. Maybe we can get started." The large man smiles, ready to get to work on a piece he's been invested in for weeks now.

"That'd be great! I'll definitely give you a call!" Lizzy smiles brightly. It took a long time figuring out how to properly honor her best friend and sister. Now that it's almost done, she's ready to have it on her forever and always have her friend with her. She looks up to Sam, seeing the faraway look in his eye. She links her arm through his and takes the pictures out of his hand, dropping them back on the counter.

"I think the necklace will give it a nice finishing touch, don't you?" She grins knowingly at him.

"Yeah," Sam smiles down to her.

"I figured it wouldn't be complete without a little Iron Giant in there somewhere!"

Lizzy laughs as Sam feels the slight embarrassment. Lou gave him that name for, uh, anatomical reasons and the fact that Lizzy just used it felt uncomfortable. But it also made him feel like Lou was still there, still objectifying him a little. And that he didn't mind, not at all.

* * *

 


	24. Back on the Road Again

* * *

"So I have a few days off," Lizzy explains while eyeing the coffee table that's now covered in used plates, dirty utensils, and empty beer bottles. "You fine young hunters have anything lined up that I can help out with?"

"Not as of right now, but I can always call Bobby and ask," Sam says, stacking dinner plates. "See what he says. If not I can pull out the laptop and get looking."

"Good, because I'm fucking itching to get out and kick some ass," Lizzy laughs as she puts her feet up on the couch and relaxes.

"You sure you want to do that?" Dean questions her, standing to help Sam.

"Uh, yeah!" Lizzy excitedly says. "Haven't hit the road and ganked some evil bitches in a wicked long time. I need my fix!"

"Ok, it's just after getting pummeled earlier today I thought you'd want to take it easy. Maybe sharpen up those skills a little before heading back out there," Dean remarks with his best patronizing grin.

"Oh, fuck you dude!" she yells to him, Dean smiling wider at her reaction. "I musta hit you in the head harder than I thought. You clearly have memory loss."

"Either that or you're just misremembering, which I'm pretty sure you are." Dean laughs as a couch pillow sails through the air at him while walking out of the living room. Making his way to the kitchen, he puts the items he's holding down on the counter by the sink, Sam right behind him.

"She killed you, didn't she?" Sam asks once the two of them were alone in the kitchen. He only assumed Lizzy would only be so adamant about sparring with Dean if she was better than good enough to.

"No way," Dean answers, only partially lying. They silently settle into a job each, Sam washing and Dean drying dishes. They said they'd clean up since she made dinner. Seemed only fair.

"Be honest," Sam asks of him, tight lipped smile in place as he hands over a now clean plate.

"Dude," Dean lowers his voice, not wanting her to hear him admit to anything. "She's fucking crazy. I mean, every time I thought I had the upper hand, she crushed me. We knew she was good, but she's beyond that, Sammy. She's down right awesome."

"Good," Sam says with a wider grin, relieved to hear that. He'll worry less about her now when she isn't with them. "So basically you're telling me you got your ass handed to you by a girl?" He huffs a laugh at Dean's expense.

"Whoa. First of all, no. I won that fight in the end, fair and square, just ask her." Dean yanks the next plate out of Sam's hand with his growing frustration. "Secondly, she is not just some girl, alright. Getting through a fight with her is like trying to get through watching Superman IV… fucking impossible. And torturous."

"Jesus, she really did a number on you." Sam laughs louder this time, knowing how much his brother hates that movie. "Wish I'd been there to see it."

"Yeah, ah, and third of all, she'd hammer your ass into next week with a hand tied behind her back! Don't ever piss her off, Sammy. She'll drop you."

"So angry," Sam comments with Dean heated words.

"You go ten rounds with all hundred and twenty pounds of her and see how good you feel coming out the other end," Dean quips, drying the last of the dishes and hanging the towel on the oven handle. "I'm just saying, we shouldn't underestimate the advantage of having her around."

"Guess not," Sam smiles, thinking how good it is to have Lizzy there to reminding Dean that he isn't invincible. He dries his hands and pulls his phone out of his back pocket to call Bobby while running to the car to grab his laptop. Time to find some work.

* * *

"Looks like it's been pretty quiet lately," Sam announces from one end of the couch while still staring at his computer in his lap. "No signs of demon activity, no omens of importance I can see."

"That's good for once," Dean comments from the other end of the couch while never looking away from the episode of Dr. Sexy he put on. He missed the past few episodes so he's trying to catch himself up. Luckily, Lizzy DVR-ed the last few so he could watch them eventually.

"This show sucks, dude," Lizzy butts in from her place sitting on the floor in front of the couch. She'd never bothered with the series before since it looked so totally corn-ball and now she's glad she hadn't.

"It's a guilty pleasure," he quickly rebuts, lightly pushing her shoulder and getting an annoyed look in response. She takes a big swig from her beer bottle, hoping the alcohol will make the terrible show a little better.

"Yeah, just a typical smattering of cranky U.F.O. sightings and one possible vengeful spirit," Sam keeps explaining, handing the laptop to Dean. "Here, check this out."

Dean pauses the show and finally looks away to take the computer, barely scanning it while Sam keeps explaining. He takes a sip from his beer as he gets ready to read.

"Up in Concrete, Washington, ah, eye witness reports of a ghost haunting the showers of a woman's health facility."

Dean sputters and nearly chokes on his sip when he hears the news but Sam ignores him. He saw the reaction coming a mile away.

"The victim claims the ghost threw her down a flight of stairs," he says while watching Dean close his laptop and hand it hastily back over without looking at it once. "I can see you're very interested."

"Women, showers," he says to his brother. "We've got to save these people."

"Already helping out one woman in a shower today wasn't enough for you," Lizzy laughs as she turns to look at him, reminding him of what they did earlier that day.

"Never," he smiles in return. "Hey, and since when did ghosts become peeping Toms?"

"I've never heard of it before," Sam admits. "Think they finally smartened up? Figured out how to abuse what they can do instead of be pissed off assholes?"

"I know that's what I'd do if I were a ghost," Dean smirks before nudging Lizzy on the shoulder again. "You up for a cross-country? Washington ain't close."

"Well shit, I guess it sucks to be you two then," Lizzy grins, excited to hit the road. "You'll be stuck with me for even longer that you'd hoped."

"Yeah, I don't think we'll have a problem with that," Dean tells her.

"Then we can leave tomorrow morning. I'll call Mitch back once we hit the road to postpone."

Sam nods his head, happy to have a third person to diffuse the growing tension between him and Dean. She is good at that.

"Sweet," Dean smiles as he pushes play on Dr. Sexy. "Better kill these episodes tonight then."

"This show's a full hour?" Lizzy asks with a whiney voice.

"Unfortunately yes," Sam answers while returning to his computer, hoping to block out the crappy, melodramatic acting.

"And how many do you need to watch?" she asks Dean.

"Two more… after this," he responds, barely paying attention to her.

"Fuck me," Lizzy complains and exasperatedly lays across the living room floor, arm dramatically draped over her forehead.

"If you want to come with us," Sam looks down at her, "You better get real good at blocking this kinda thing out."

"Awesome," she sarcastically remarks. Looking up from the floor, she watches Dean's concentrated face as he takes in the dramatic show. Her heart always swells at simple times like this, the times when she could see Dean be truly relaxed, no worry, anxiety, fear, or pain can be seen in expression. He never looked more beautiful to her than in the very rare and very fleeting moments like these. She's so glad that for once when he leaves her house tomorrow, he isn't leaving her behind. She's coming with. No tearful goodbye to the guy who makes her life not only bearable but completely worthwhile and honestly fulfilling.

Maybe this whole soul mate thing wasn't as scary and awful as they initially thought. Right now, it seemed pretty damn good.

* * *

**_THE END_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to comment on any chapter. I love communicating with readers and I will always respond whether you liked it, didn't like it, found mistakes, whatever!


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